


Wolves Are Beautiful People

by CocoPotterEverdeenWinchesterBaggins



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Blood and Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Multi, Romantic Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Threats of Violence, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29261292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoPotterEverdeenWinchesterBaggins/pseuds/CocoPotterEverdeenWinchesterBaggins
Summary: Lilith is lonely. After being bitten by Fenrir Greyback at the battle of Hogwarts society shuns her, she has lost everything, her only comfort is her job as a wandmaker at Ollivanders and her friendship with the neurotic owner of the shop.That is until someone equally as lonely comes into her life. Draco Malfoy has been released from Azkaban mere weeks ago and has trouble adjusting to his new life.Together they decide to face the troubles plaguing them, an adventure ensues and somewhere in the process they find each other.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

I’ve never been particullary brave. I knew that and it was okay, the line between bravery and stupidity is a narrow and slippery one. 

I wasn’t a coward. I always fought when it was important and people were thankful for that, for a minor bravery in everyday, petty confrontations.   
It was easy to be brave when the biggest repurcussions one had to fear were a mean comment, detention, at worst a punch in the nose, but that rarely ever happened. 

It was easy to be brave when life had been in order, when there was right and wrong and everybody knew the rules to follow. Calling out a bully or the injustice of teachers wasn’t scary really, not in comparison. 

The difference between bravery and what I did that historical day was the conscious decision. Heroes decide to stay and do the right thing because it is their inner core that demands it. I was mostly pushed into it by accident. And then I was too far in and I had no choice but to stay and play braver than I actually was. 

I remember the situation very clearly. It was my fifth year in Hogwarts when Voldemort attacked the school. We were all in the great hall when they asked the underage students to leave the castle and the adults to fight among them, to join them in this last battle that would determine all our fates. And I stayed behind. Just a minute, just trying to make sense of it, just a moment to breathe and realize what was going on.

I was fifteen, I was way too young, I was naive and for a second I actually thought I could help, could fight alongside the others or nurse the wounded. I was top of my class and they would need every help they could get and I was so confused. So when I noticed my classmates were gone already and the emergency exit had been closed from the outside I had a brief uplifting feeling of being part of something bigger than myself. But the first earth shattering crash of stone onto stone woke me from my trance and I realized it was not right for me to be here. I realized I should have followed my friends and got out of this death trap while I still could. 

But now was too late. I would have to fight.

Suddenly being top of my class had lost all its meaning, because I knew I had nothing against Death Eaters and Dementors and Voldemort, nothing.

So I hid, locked myself in the darkest, smallest cubby I could find and tried not to hear or feel anything. Looking back at it it sounds pathetic, not facing the danger but hiding, crying just so others would deal with it. But I didn’t feel pathetic back then, it was an instinct like babies cry out for the first breath they take. I craved security, the sense of protection. And so I stayed there without feeling anything and it worked for a while.

I was in another world, yes it was small and dusty and reaked of mold but it was safe and I could almost imagine the blasts outside, the vibration I felt through the floor as nothing more than firecrackers, a celebration in another world I had no part in. 

But only for so long. The firecrackers got louder and the voices I had morphed into cheerfull laughter in my head got harder and harder to bear because deep down I knew they were screams and they got louder and louder and louder. I could only take so much and when the noise became too loud, the screams unbearable and I knew my head would burst if I stayed one more second, that’s when I realized: the others felt the same way. They knew they would probably not make it out of here alive and still they were outside and fought until their own death. 

And that was the moment I decided. 

That was the moment that bravery triumphed over fear and I decided to stand up and go out the door and join them and face whatever was coming towards me. I almost peed myself and I fell two times before reaching the door, but when I opened it and realized I had decided to willingly die, an unknown bravery and hope stabilized my steps.

I had nothing to lose. I had decided that death was the outcome, it was something I had actively chosen and it gave me back control. Control over my actions, my fate, even my legacy. I had parents and a sister, I had friends, so many to mourn my loss, so at least it needed to be worth it. So they could cry, not mocking my stupidity but honoring my bravery, so they could think to themselves I died helping something bigger. 

I opened the door and looked around. I didn’t have a clue where I was but all I had to do was follow the noise so I ran out into the corridor, far down, nearing the screams at the, what I guessed now, big hall and stairs. It didn’t take me long, it felt like seconds that went by way too fast, the castle so much smaller suddenly, suffocating with lowering ceilings and pressing walls. I ran onto the stairs and I couldn’t believe what I saw, rocks and fragments of walls, dust, bodies, blood and dirt shattered around the floor. I vomited. 

Then I saw someone, he duck behind a big part of wall, shivering and jittering with fear, his nose bled violently and his clothes seemed to glow on his legs, emitting smoke. But he didn’t seem to notice, he cried and the tears left narrow clean stripes on his dirty face. He looked completely gone and I couldn’t blame him. 

His grey eyes were red around the edges, his blonde hair sticky with blood. I knew him, he was a student as well, I didn’t know his name but I knew his face and I knew I needed to help. I saw the Death Eater walking up to him from behind, the boy didn’t. I wondered how the Death Eater had spotted him behind the rock and was sure from where he came and held up his wand he could only see the sooty hair, almost black with dirt and the lack of lighting, slowly shaking while he sobbed.

I didn’t think, I just did. Like how I just stayed. I jumped out of where I hid and yelled: „Stupor“, pointing my wand at him as the red lightning pulled him off his feet and hurled him through the air. He didn’t move as he landed at the bottom of the stairs, his wand had vanished somewhere else. I know it had only been luck, the moment of surprise working in my favour and I couldn’t count on it again once he’d wake up.

The boy looked at me now and I hurried over. He had eyes that looked much younger than his face and he looked at me like a child looking at the first snow of the year. Happy and grateful, but also surprised and fearful of how long it would last. That’s how he looked at me.

I hadn’t reached him yet, but I asked none the less: „Are you okay?“, I shouted as silently as possible over the noise.

I saw his eyes widening as he opened his mouth, but then something wet and sharp drilled into the side of my stomach and with a violent jolt I was thrown meters to the side. It held me, the thing that bore into my body, like a clamp, moving me with ease and jerked me through the air as I heard the boys cry fading beside my own. It hurt so much. I could feel the blood dripping from the wound and making my clothes stick to my skin, dripping into my hair and down my hands. I felt the spikes scratching along my lowest rip, felt it ripping at my intestines. Then with a sickening ripping sound my skin and flesh tore under the jerking and I flew a couple of meters against a wall while the side of my stomach remained in the clamp that had held me.

I felt my scalp rupture as it hit the wall and a new flow of blood ran into my eyes and mouth. But I could still see and only slowly did I recognize what I saw in front of me. 

Fenrir Greyback. He swallowed thickly as he took in my flesh, then his hungry eyes found me again. He wasn’t a normal werewolf, those were just like wolves, a little bigger, yes, but he looked…vicious. His skin was shining through his patchy fur, he was gigantic, with long yellow fangs and claws and sour saliva was dripping from his mouth as he drew it into a frightening grin. 

I had stopped crying because I was too terrified, I felt the pain vibrating through my stomach, my spine into my brain and back. It hurt so bad, but I couldn’t pay attention to that, I needed to find my wand, I was completely defenseless. 

My eyes quickly scanned the floor but I couldn’t find it, I just couldn’t. He was over me now and his saliva dripped onto my skin and burned like acid as he took one claw and cut me open. I wanted to run but his big foot stood on top of my leg and I couldn’t move an inch without ripping it off in an instance. 

So I didn’t, I chose to die a second time in this hour. 

I knew I would faint sooner or later and it gave me hope, so I closed my eyes and felt his claw cutting through my flesh waiting patiently to lose consciousness. But suddenly there was a loud crack, a roar of stone as a huge piece of castle wall crashed onto Greenbacks skull and buried his head underneath. 

I saw the boy standing there behind him, wand drawn and still pointing at the air over Greybacks head, shaking and tumbling and I stared at him. I stared at him like a child staring at the first snow of the year.

I saw his eyes wander to my mid section and I saw them growing wider. Then he puked. 

I looked away and slowly started to look down at me. Everything was red and glistening from the torches. I couldn’t really see anything. I just saw red and chunks of flesh and skin and bone lying around in the soup of blood and I didn’t recognize any of this being me, my body. I saw my chest and the bloody fabric, I knew that was mine, but as my eyes wandered further I only saw something dead, in it’s last breaths, something mutilated and painful, it wasn’t me, it couldn’t be.

He came over, face unhealthily green and tried to not step into the puddles of blood and flesh that lay beside me.

He looked at me as he kneeled down beside me and lent against the wall just like I did. I could see the disgust in his eyes, even though he tried to hide it, I could see that all he wanted was to not look at me and nobody could blame him.

„I’m sorry I was so slow“, he said and new tears streamed down his face: „I had to search my wand, I“, he choked up.

It was difficult, but I managed a whispering: „’S ’kay“, somewhere in the mush of red at my belly bubbles started to come up as I tried to speak.

„Stay here, I’ll get help“, he said and wanted to stand up but I made a noise so he hesitated. Normally I would have pointed out the stupidity in his request, where did he think I would go? But this was not the situation for something like that.

This time I tried to speak extremely clear, as clear as somehow possible, he needed to understand me: „Don’t“, I said and swallowed blood: „Let m’ die“, I whispered.

„No“, he said: „No, I won’t, I just saved you“, he said.

I shook my head: „Dead…better“, I stammered and closed my eyes again.

And I meant it, even though my mind was cloudy and fuzzy and dull, I knew what this meant if I survived. I would be one of them, I would be a monster, just like him. I wouldn’t be myself anymore. He hadn’t saved me, not really.

I could hear him there, beside me, half standing, half kneeling, and I could feel his eyes on me, assessing if I even had a chance to survive this, if it was worth calling for a healer or if he could sit it out, if he’d do me a favor by just sitting back down and waiting for a couple of minutes to end my suffering. I knew he understood what I meant by death being better than this life I would lead. Everybody knew that.

„I’m sorry“, he said then, and I didn’t know what that meant, but then I heard his footsteps, fast and stern on the stone ground as he ran towards the great hall to get help.

I started to cry then, just hoping the wounds would be deep enough to kill me before help arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn’t kill me.

It took me three weeks to wake up again and when I did my whole body still hurt. The wounds were infected more often than not, not healing like normal wounds would, not cooperating. I had to stay in the hospital for over three months.

The first full moon arrived six days after I first woke up and the nurses gave me wolfsbane to control my mind during the shift. It was the most terrible experience I could have imagined.   
I finished school in the hospital, it was obvious nobody wanted the young werewolf at Hogwarts, I had heard what had happened to Prof. Lupin in my first year, my kind wasn’t welcome. And I understood. Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted to risk it either if I had been a parent. Maybe the worry over ones child outweighed the rational thought. I knew what I was and I hated myself more than anyone else could ever hate me.

I’d always dreamt of becoming an Unspeakable once I was old enough and had graduated, but the Ministry wouldn’t even take a werewolf into consideration. So I decided to study with one of the oldest friends of my mother, Garrick Ollivander and become a wandmaker.

He was good to me and he didn’t fear me, he gave me a small flat above his store and I worked with him. I didn’t talk to the customers, they would fear me, but I studied wandlore for over two years, it was a very complex and mysterious field and soon I started having greater interest in it than I could have ever imagined. And I was good at it, not only mastering the skills to make a wand, but also creating new combinations and finding new materials to form the core.

After the war had ended more and more people had wanted new wands, more children were born who needed more wands, muggleborns whose wands had been broken by the deatheaters needed new ones and therefore the store was vibrant, even though I only ever experienced it in my backroom, where I made special customizations and new creations. I never stepped into the actual store, I just felt the buzzing of people in the wood of my table.

It was ironic, after the war everybody had been more than willing to speak out publicly in favor of protection laws for werewolves, house elfs, vampires, all of my lot. It was trendy to be tolerant and open minded in public and it had filled me with hope in the beginning. But what they said was different story than what they did. Everybody loved talking about how accepting they were but I still got spit on on the streets, cafes still had the right to deny me service, I still couldn’t find a flat to live in, nobody wanted me around.

But the work was reassuring, it was something like a friendship, it kept me occupied until late at night and I never really stopped thinking about it, sometimes not leaving the workshop for days, only for minutes to get a shower or grab something to drink. It was very distracting and kept my thoughts from wandering, from thinking about the things I couldn’t do and the dreams I’d lost and the people I drove away. I was very lonely.

„Lilith“, Ollivander shouts gently from the doorway and I look up.

„What?“, I ask breathless: „What’s the matter? What’s wrong?“.

Ollivander smiles and his eyes wrinkle: „I have to go. I’ll be back in two days. The keys are behind the sign as always, you know what to do“, he comes up to me and spreads his arms for me.

I smile: „It’s going to be so boring without you, an utter lack of amusement“, I say and hug him: „I hope the market will be worth it“.

„Oh it will be, you’ll have to come with me next time, every substance and cloth and material you can imagine, you’d love it“, he says, already knowing I won’t come with him.

„We’ll see“, I say: „Somebody has to look after the store after all“, I remind him and he sighs.

„The store wont run away, Lilith“, he shakes his head then he looks at me with a determined face: „But you do look after it very well, you know that“, he says and I nod: „You know that life did not give me any children of my own“, he says then and I nod again, unknowing: „I decided for you to have the store after my death“, he says.

I want to say something, want to intervene but he shushes me and goes on: „Men in my family tend to get ungodly old, my dear, don’t worry, I’ll most likely still run this shop when you’re sixty“.

Even though I feel conflicted, I laugh at his comment and nod: „Let’s hope so“, I say and he waves his goodbye.

It’s nice when I am on my own in the store, I can experiment and create and be a bit risky, when Garrick isn’t watching me with a fearful eye. He never was the risky type. He had learnt everything he knew from his father who learnt it from his father and so on, he likes doing stuff how it’s supposed to be done, how it was always done. Not how it could be done. I like to do something on my own and if it means there’s something exploding from time to time, I don’t mind. 

On the other hand it gets really lonely in here. 

When he leaves for more than one day Garrick always closes the shop, so I don’t have to talk to someone or be seen by someone and it gets very quiet. I don’t mind being alone, I don’t have to look over my back, I can show my face without their stares. But there is a maximum of everything and from time to time I just need a little company from someone who doesn’t fear me. And there aren’t many people who don’t fear me. 

I can see the growing fear in their eyes when they see my scars, I can hear them whispering when my name drops. In the beginning I thought I could keep it a secret from most people, I knew I had to be registered and looked after but I thought in my day to day life, people wouldn’t notice. But they did, not only my scars told them, even though my face looked almost normal on good days, just one big scar over my right eye, most of the damage was in my abdomen, no they just saw it. As if I had a big tattoo on my forehead saying werewolf.

Maybe they saw the wolf in the depth of my eyes, or they noticed how pale and tired I looked after a full moon. How I moved my body more cautiously and how I held my head like looking for prey. I saw the wolf inside of me. Every second. I felt the growling pride in my heart, felt the desire to be near someone like me, to have a pack.

And maybe everybody else saw it too, because after a while everybody knew and for some time the store went empty. But after a while of me hiding in my flat and behind the store, people thought I was gone and it was okay again. 

It hurt, it really did. 

I had been very popular before, I had more friends than I needed and more attention that I wanted, but now. I understood them to some degree, but sometimes I wished it was different. I wished to just go out into the alley and the people wouldn’t back up, wouldn’t change the side of the road to bring the most distance between us as possible. 

After a while I just started to go out at night, when the streets were empty and the stores silent and I wandered around without bothering anyone. It made me feel almost normal, it made me feel as if I was one of them even though I never would be.

The doorbell rings and it pushes me out of my memories. 

I still and listen. Maybe Garrick forgot something and came back to get it?

„Hello?“, a deep voice shouts and I duck a little further into the workshop: „Somebody there?“, the voice asks.

A customer. How could that be? Garrick must have forgotten to hang the closed sign. Dammit. I decide to wait in silence for the man to leave again.

But he doesn’t seem to care about the lack of staff in the store, on the contrary, he rather seems to appreciate the opportunity to rummage around, I can hear him rim through the store, shifting boxes, lifting chests and it makes me uneasy. What if he breaks something? It’s my job to look after the shop, if I can’t even do that? 

So I go out a little further down the hallway where I can see the glimmer of light from the store but am still hidden in the shadows and yell: „We’re closed“, I can hear my voice tremble: „Please come back after the weekend“.

„It’s very urgent“, the voice answers and I can hear the footsteps getting closer: „It won’t take long“, I can see a shadow in the glimmer in front of me: „Please?“.

I see his siluette in the doorway and jolt further away.

„Oh sorry, shit“, the man says breathlessly: „I didn’t want to scare you“. He hurries towards me but then stops, obviously not wanting to scare me even more.

„You didn’t“, I say then, because I do have my pride: „I was just surprised“.

The man nods. I get the uneasy feeling that he’s smirking a little. But I still can’t make out the contours of his face so I decide I might be wrong. Although I’m clearly not.

I sigh: „Alright, what do you need?“, I ask, I don’t want rumours about Ollivanders staff being mean. A little late for that.

The man seems happy and I can hear the smile in his voice: „I need a new wand“, he says.

„I figured“, I say and snort: „What happened to the old one?“, I ask still ducking under my hood and in the shadows.

I can’t see his face against the light but I’m pretty sure his brows furrow: „Does that matter?“, he asks.

„Yes“, I say and he sighs after a moment.

„It’s broken“, he states shortly. How informative.

„Broken by accident or for punishment?“, I ask absently and mentally I already go through lists of different combinations and materials that could suit the man.

There is a small pause before he answers, surprise in his voice: „Broken for punishment“, he says then and I can hear something else too. Fear? Shame?

„Alright“, I say, not really there a hundred percent, but invested in my wand lists and I hear an amused huff from the man when I don’t ask further questions.

„Do you need to hear what my first wand was?“, he asks then because that’s usually a question the old masters ask when somebody wants to purchase a new wand. But I shake my head.

„No, no“, I say strongly: „That only makes it harder. I focus on the wrong things and it takes twice as long to find the right one for you“, I say and think.

„Could you tell me something about you“, I ask and I can almost hear his brows rise again: „Totally random information, nothing particularly interesting or provocative, just what comes to mind“, I wait.

The pause is longer this time and I think he won’t answer when I hear his voice again: „My favorite color is green, I had my first girlfriend with 16, I play the piano, I enjoy looking at the stars, even though I can’t tell anyone, because, well, you heard what that sounded like, I feel very guilty sometimes about things in my past, I don’t believe in god and I sing in the shower, very badly“, he says and ends with a reassuring nod.

„That’ll do“, I say and snicker a little. My thoughts fly around but I can’t help them circling around one wand in particular. But I can’t, I really shouldn’t. But then again why not, really?

„Okay“, I say, hesitatingly: „I feel like I know a wand for you. I“, I hesitate, but he nods for me to go on: „I just finished it and it is a little, let's say, unconventional“, I say.

„What does that mean?“, he asks suspiciously.

„Just go and look at it yourself and if you like it, you can try it out?“, I ask and he nods half heartedly. So I wave him to follow me back into the workshop. I put my hood even further down my face and am pretty sure to not be visible as I step into the flaming light of the workshop.

I love the place and to judge from the shaky breathes of the man behind me, he does as well. It’s very old, all wooden and the high walls are completely hidden behind thousands of jars with ingredients and wood samples and powders and potions everything one could ever dream of.

„Wow“, he says behind me and I smile a little under my hood.

It really is wow. It’s like a tower of wisdom, like the whole foundation of our culture under one roof. It’s breathtaking and almighty.

„It’s the one over there“, I go over to the workbench where one finished wand lies in the middle of a soft patch of fabric, glistening golden in the warm light.

„It’s silver lime for the corpus“, I explain still not facing him directly.

„It’s beautiful“, he whispers and I can’t help but smile. „How did you make the patina?“, he asks.

It’s an obvious question, the wand does look quite unique, it’s very thin and long, looks fragile in it’s stature, it’s got a very unique pattern on the surface. Small and detailed there are scales carved into it, from beginning to bottom.

„I carved it myself“, I say proudly: „But the silver golden shimmer comes from the core, I found a way to weave the core within the wood, it makes spells stronger and the wand more sturdy, despite the long and fragile look“, I say: „But I have to admit, that there could be side effects I haven’t yet noticed, this is only the third wand I made with this technic“.

It felt like I was obligated to warn him, but he doesn’t seem to have any interest in it, and I assume he has his eyes locked on the wand still.

„Can I try it?“, he asks and I can hear the longing in his words.

„Of course“, I say and take the wand to give it over: „The core is scales from the merepeople, it’s the first wand with such a core ever“, I say proudly. It’s quite a task giving him my creation while still looking only towards the floor, but I manage and a moment later the wand slips into the mans hand.

The result is overwhelming and immediate. The whole room fills with blue and green sparks, flickering patches of light appear on the walls and ceiling and for a second it looks like we’re at the bottom of the ocean. It is amazing, feeling the bond between this wand, the wand I just made and this man and without thinking about it I look up. I just have to see the look on his face, I just need to see the wand vibrating and buzzing with magic.

I have a big smile on my face, I am euphoric with the result. Until our eyes lock.

I know these eyes and I know immediately when I had seen them last. Four years ago. I remember so well, every patch of blue in the grey undertone, every little shade of green. I remember the fading footsteps as he ran to get help I never wanted. I remember these eyes so vividly, because it is my last memory as myself. It had been the last thing I had seen before turning into a monster.


	3. Chapter 3

I can see his eyes grow wide as he slowly recognises me and the flow of magic out of the wand subsides, letting the cold and quiet reality sink back into this small workshop. I look away, putting my hood back, still hoping he might not have recognised me.

„I know you“, he says and it is barely a whisper.

I shake my head and put some stuff around, I don’t even know what I’m doing, just putting tools from one spot to another to have a good reason to ignore him and not look at this face.  
I can’t deal with this now, I don’t know how I feel about him. 

I know I’m supposed to be thankful, after all he did save my life, technically, but I have this deep anger invested in my very soul towards him. It wasn’t his decision to make, but he did none the less and now I lead this lonely life, devoid of any meaning, living just for the sake of it. The truth is, I wish he hadn’t saved me. I wish he would’ve sat down beside me and allow me to end my life on my own rules like I had decided.

„Do you want to buy the wand or what?“, I ask and take it out of his hand.

„Uhm…yes, of course“, he says, sounding baffled.

I nod and make my way to the store front, to sort out a nice box and give him a bag so he can carry his wand home.

I am under a pile of boxes to pick a fitting one for this special wand when he talks again: „You don’t remember me?“, he sounds sad strangely.

I pause for a moment, the perfect box right in front of me, I grab it and get back up behind the counter. I’m standing upright now, what’s the need for hiding now anyway.

„I do remember you“, I say shortly and place the wand in the box: „That’s 9 galleons for this one, I’ll give you our small caring set for free“.

He looks upset now and nods absentmindedly, pushing the money across the counter and it is only then that his eyes seem to pick up the small scars on my skin, the white, delicate patches, that never really healed.

His features seem to tighten a little and I see the face I had recognised these months in the hospital, when I had opened the newspapers and a new report of his trial was on. I hadn’t known what he was back at this one evening in Hogwarts, when I saved him from the Death Eater. I like to think it wouldn’t have made a difference.

They gave him three and a half years in Azkaban after Harry Potter spoke for his defense, which nobody really understood. He never told the court about me though, even though it would have been good for him, rescuing the small girl from the werewolf, but he didn’t tell them. In reality nobody knew, because I didn’t tell anyone either. I don’t know how he alerted the healers without showing himself, maybe a patronus, maybe something else, but to this day we are the only two people in the world who really know what happened that night.

„Are you angry with me?“, he asks now, new found strength in his voice.

I sigh and close my eyes for a second, then I answer: „No“.

„Are you unbothered by my presence then?“, he says.

„No“, I say again and flinch a little.

„So you’re neither angry nor okay with me and that leaves me as…what exactly?“, he asks, a mixture of amusement and annoyance in his voice.

„I don’t know, okay?“, I say a little too loud and a little too fast and suddenly it just rushes out of my mouth: „You can’t deny that this is awkward. What do you want from me? Do you want me to thank you?“, I ask: „Because I can’t do that, because in a way I am angry with you. Or do you want me to tell you wether or not I regret shocking that Death Eater now that I know you were one of them? What do you want?“, my voice had gotten a bit louder, but I don’t sound angry, more tired and devastated: „You came in here for a wand, you now have one, what else do you want?“.

He shakes his head and sighs: „I don’t want you to explain or thank or anything. I just know, that I’ve spent almost four years now wondering what became of you, whether you died or not, or if I made the right decision and now that the answers possibly lay before me, I’d like to at least try and get them“, he says, chest heaving as he takes the bag with his wand.

„Well, I can’t answer them either“, I say: „Do I look like I’ve got all the answers?“, I grin joylessly.

„Actually, in a way, you do“, he says, smirking a little: „Must be Ollivanders allknowing aura wearing off on you“.

I huff to my own bewilderment, then I take in two deep breaths: „Good luck, now that you’re out“, I say and he gets a bit paler: „And be careful with my baby“, I wave to the bag and declare this conversation to be over.

What am I supposed to do? I’m messed up, no way I can work on anything now. This dickhead just had to barge in today, hadn’t he? He just felt like bying a new wand and came in, casually shaking up my whole fucking existence. How very impolite.

It is half past six and since it's late Oktober the days had gotten shorter every week and the darkness slowly lay over the rooftops of diagon alley. It was a beautiful time of the year, when the nights grew darker and the lanterns and lampions flew like little bright flames around the streets. And the people stayed inside, even the most hardcore party goers decided it was wise to not freeze to death. So the streets are empty early and I can actually take a walk in peace.

So that’s what I am going to do, great plan. It’s actually my last opportunity before this months full moon, which is tomorrow. It will be my 46th transformation.  
I put on my boots and my coat, the big scarf I can hide my face in should it be necessary and the gloves my mom gave me for my birthday last year. I chug the last dose of wolfsbane potion on my way out and shake myself like the wolf inside me at the bitter taste.

The alley is almost empty as I lock the door behind me, there is a couple over at Eeylops Owlery, looking at the big windows, the owls must have gotten active with the night.  
They don’t care about me as I walk up the streets, passing them with a good 5 meter distance between us. I don’t know where I actually want to go.

I look around into the dark windows and suddenly I feel very lonely. I need company, that’s it. And since I know I can’t actually talk to anybody I just want to be near people, just sit in the dark beside the buzzing laughter and stories. So I decide to go to the Leaky Cauldron where they seldom ask why one is wearing a hood over ones eyes. 

I can hear the humming of voices even before I reach the beam of light before the windows and an excited heat spreads inside my chest. I’m not used to people anymore, not really. I pull up my hood and the scarf up to my nose and open the door. Nobody even notices the opening door, the pub is full of people of all types, the young and hopeful laughing and screaming, the old and wasted sitting alone at the bar, the lost and fearfull, the veterans, the caretakers. Everybody sitting here in a somehow working symbiosis, because they knew deep down they were equals, deep down they were the same. I wasn’t. I sighed and went up to the bar, trying not to trip or even touch anybody, I needed to be as invisible as possible. All I wanted was to sit there and watch them and hear relaxed voices and feel the waves of air when they moved.

„I’d like your Hennessy X.O. Cognac, please“, I say to the grumpy looking bartender, he nodds and gives me a round glass with the ambercolored liquid.

„Thank you“, I say and head back towards the farthest corner of the taproom.

I sit down on a round wooden table that looks as old as I feel, deep gouges part the surface, hundreds of spilled drinks have left pale patches as a reminder they had been there.

I taste some of the mild warm flavour of the cognac and feel my heart slowing down, I almost feel like one of them and when I close my eyes I can imagine to sit among them, joking with them, sharing their stories and fears.

„What is that guy doing here?“, someone whispers furiously and the laughter and buzzing subsides. Are they talking about me? No, I’m not a guy. Do I look that terrible they can’t even identify my gender anymore?

I open my eyes and look around the room. Nobody’s watching me, they’re looking towards the bar, where a figures back is turned towards me as he’s ordering a drink. I can’t see who he is, he’s wearing a long black coat on top of slender shoulders. He’s tall and the hands lying on top oft he bar are pale and skinny, like the legs of a dead spider. He holds his head high, but I can see the tense muscles in his neck as they twitch and relax with every sound. He has blond, almost white hair. A suspicion forms inside my brain.

„Hey“, the man that had whispered before shouts and walks towards the man: „What do you think you’re doing here?“, he asks.

The figure grabs the drink that was shoved towards him and turns around. And of course it’s him, I can see the bag with my wand in his left hand, I can see the grey eyes darting towards the man that spoke to him.

His voice is polite but affirmative: „I’m drinking a cognac“, he says and takes a sip of his glass.

„Drink it somewhere else“, someone else out of the crowd shouts: „Didn’t you read the sign? No Deatheaters allowed“.

„No I didn’t see it“, he says apologetically.

I huff inside my scarf. Such a smartass. Of course there was no such sign because why the fuck would there be? He’s going to get himself in trouble. But maybe that was his reason to come here all along.

„Do you want me to kick your fucking smartass out of here?“, the first guy shouts, obviously slurring with alcohol. 

„Given the choice, I’d rather not“, Malfoy says: „I’d like to drink my cognac in peace and then leave“.

That’s when the spell hits the bar mere millimeters beside Malfoy. Red sparks, shards of wood and glass explode in the air and I see how they cut into his face and hands and dark red blood oozes out of the wound. It looks beautiful somehow, the contrast to his pale skin, like red wine on snow.

I’m on my feet before I know what I’m doing. I’m already in front of him as the man raises his wand for the second spell.

„Everte Statum“, I shout right in front of the man and he flies back several meters and crashes against the back wall, falling down to the floor where he stays, not moving but breathing.  
„Don’t fucking mess up me pub, you fuckheads“, a deep voice shouts over the commotion.

I don’t even have time to chuckle about the utter eloquence of that sentence: „Come on“, I hiss at Malfoy and rush out the pub before the other people even realise what had happened.

I don’t look back, if he’s not following me it’s his own fault, but I feel his presence behind me, hear the fast breaths as he runs after me.

I unlock the door to the shop from afar and we are inside before the pub door opens up.

„You fucking idiot“, I shout and pull him along into the workshop: „You needed to be smart, did you?“.

I switch on the lights and take off my scarf and coat, I had taken the gloves off inside the pub.

„I’m sorry?“, he says indignantly: „Maybe I didn’t get the message but as far as I know this is none of your fucking business“.

„Big words for someone with blood all over his face“, I hiss back at him and as if I had reminded him his eyes close in a painful expression.

„Sit down and let me have a look at it“, I order him, but I hear my voice has gotten softer, I’m not good at seeing pain.

He hesitates but after a few moments he sits down. On top of my workbench. Of course. Dick. I pull out my wand and try to clean the wounds of any shards or splinters that could be stuck inside. He doesn’t flinch, but I can see the tiny sweat drops on his forehead. It must hurt pretty bad.

„I’m almost done“, I reassure him: „Episky“, I say and swing my wand.

The skin starts to regrow immediately as the blood dries out and crumbles. It takes less than a minute until the wounds are closed and tender, pink patches of skin are the only reminder of where they once were. Oh if that had worked with my wounds as well.

He wipes away the sweat from his face and straightens his back: „Thank you“, he says and I know he hates it.

„I really owe you“, he says then silently. There’s something else in his voice and it takes me a while to recognise it, it is shame.

„You don’t owe me anything“, I say and sigh: „You’ve saved my life, I saved yours, we’re even“. I mean it.

„I didn’t, not really“, he says and looks at me, eyes wandering across my face, trailing the faint scars in my skin: „I want to make it up to you, you’re the last thing I have to make right, I’ve done my years in Azkaban for all the things I did. I didn’t do anything for what I did to you“.

I’m not sure if I should be offended but I am, who does he think he is: „Don’t flatter yourself, you didn’t have that much impact“, I say and I can hear the hurt and pride in my voice: „It’s Greyback who did all the work“.

„That’s not what I meant“, he says in this tone of faint annoyance he often choses: „But you look like you could use some company from time to time“, he says.

I furrow my brows and look at him disapprovingly, does he know he only makes it worse with every word?

He sighs, not annoyed anymore, just tired: „And honestly, so could I. Really“, he wipes across his eyes as to push out the exhaustion.

And he looks like it. He looks like someone lost who is too proud to ask for directions, he looks lonely.

I sit down beside him, careful not to break anything on the bench: „What do you suggest?“, I ask.

He smiles ever so faintly and shrugs: „I don’t know, maybe we could just go out together, get something to eat or drink“.

I shake my head: „If you think you’re not welcome in these establishments you should see how they treat a“, I pause, after all this time I still can’t say it: „someone like me“.

„Oh“, he says and he actually sounds sorry: „I could help you with minor things in the shop“, he looks around in amazement: „do you need an assistant or something like that?“.

I think about it: „Sometimes maybe“, I say: „That’s not a terrible idea“.

„Alright“, he says and nods like he had just sealed a business deal, but his face is turned away from me and I can hear the smile in his voice. I smile.

„I could come in tomorrow?“, he says eagerly.

„No“, I say a little too loud. He looks at me in bewilderment. And I shake my head softly: „Tomorrow is a bad day“, I say: „Full moon“, I explain.

„Right“, he says and I can see the guilt in his eyes: „But you’re drinking wolvesbane right?“.

„Of course“, I hurry: „The ministry actually provides it now, once you’re registered“.

„Sweet“, he says. And it sounds so wrong from his mouth with the regal arch of his lip that I can’t help but burst out in laughter.

„What?“, he asks, sounding both offended and amused.

„Nothing“, I laugh: „Just“, I pause: „Sweet“.

„Granted“, he says and his lips turn into a faint smile: „I will see you tomorrow then“, he stands up and my laughter subsides.

„No I told you, tomorrow“, I try a sentence.

But he interrupts me: “Is the full moon, yes, you mentioned, but I’ve heard wolves don’t like being alone“, he states and before I can say another word he’s out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

I can feel the full moon when I wake up in the morning. It’s pulling on my bones and pinches my skin, it makes me more alert, I can see, smell and hear things better than on any other day. Actually I like the day of the full moon, when I’m still human but everything is so much sharper, so defined. But I hate the nights. Because the nights are painful and lonely and the wolf part of me longs for company so much more than the human me, longs for touch and familiar breaths beside me, longs for a pack, a family.

It’s half past ten already and I feel more rested than in a long time.

Like every full moon day I start it lazily, taking my time, not rushing to take a shower and try eating a little breakfast and of course failing terribly. As the moon shrinks with every month so do I, I’ve always been fair, but the years that lay behind me have made me look sick, too thin to be healthy. I look into the mirror and see the sharp shadows my cheekbones cast onto my face, my collarbones like coat hangers on my shoulders and I envy the women I sometimes see from my ceiling window strutting along the alley with those curves that make the men blush and flustered and everything about them is healthy and luscious and fertile. 

I sigh and look into my eyes. It’s strange, it looks like I’m becoming a wolf more and more with every passing full moon. I first noticed it two years ago when the soft green of my eyes first started to fade into that amber shade of yellow commonly seen in wolves. Now my eyes only show the mere memory of their prior beauty. Only a thin ring of green around my iris remembers what I once was. I sigh and close them. I can’t shake the feeling of losing myself more and more and someday there wont be anything left of me, I’ll be that new, foreign thing I can’t identify anymore and it scares me senseless. And there wont be a way back.

I shake my head like a dog shaking water from its fur and pull on some clothes I wont miss, they’re going to be ripped apart anyway once the transformation starts. I chose some old jeans and a shirt with holes all over it from working with wood. Of course it’s too big for me, but I don’t care.

I go downstairs and into the workshop to at least get some work done.

Wands are a tricky thing, they have minds of their own, some are more stubborn than others, some more aggressive and it takes years of practice to distinguish wich are wich and even more to be able to master them accordingly. Garrick had always been trusting in my abilities even if sometimes something caught fire or a loud bang woke him from his ever longer growing naps. He allowed me to make my own experiences instead of just telling me his and it had helped me a lot in getting accustomed to every thinkable character I could encounter in a wand and still there were always surprises, almost every single day.

This one for example, dragonheart string, bamboo, not even 5 inches long, on first glance everything about it screamed sturdy yet flexible but when I had touched it first it almost blew a hole into the floor I was standing on. I’m not mad, it had been broken in the middle, only held together by a single thread of string pulsating with cumulated energy to keep the wand together, of course it was twitchy, so would I be if my caretaker broke me in two. So I try to be calming and reassuring and yes, once or twice I slip up and cuss the living hell out of it but in the end we arrange a punity. And from there it only takes about 3 hours, extensive spellwork and a good handfull of bamboo shavings to make it whole again.

I’m sweaty and my face is sticky with resin but I am more or less satisfied with my work once I put the wild bamboo wand back into a cushioned box ready for pick up.  
I don’t actually realise the time that has gone by until I hear a strong knock on the backdoor. I look up at the giant clock a good three meters above my head. Five minutes to six. I feel the anxiousness pull at my guts, the sun would go down every minute now.

I clean my hands on my jeans and open the door.

„Good evening“, he says and comes inside: „Oh excuse me am I too early?“, he asks and his eyes stick to a particularly sticky part of my forehead: „It seems I must have intruded before you had a chance to change“. 

I blink at him for a second and stay quiet.

„Unless“, he hurries on: „This is your evening attire in which case I want to apologise for my daftness and complement you on the particular glow your face is radiating tonight“.

„Thank you“, I say choking back a grin and take his coat. He seems surprised by this level of politeness. I suddenly feel sorry for him. I wonder how long it has been since someone treated him with respect.

I try and hide my thoughts as best I can but he keeps rambling on: „I was just a little startled, your evening wear greatly varies from mine“, he explains and even though it sounds condescending I can appreciate his manners while telling me off.

He himself is, of course, impeccably dressed in a black on black striped suit and cream coloured tie and handkerchief, dark grey vest and shiny leather loafers. He’s also brought a bottle of wine.  
I look down at myself and back at him and can’t help but chuckle a little: „I’m not sure if you’re over- or I’m underdressed“, I say and take the bottle from his hands.

I see him breathe in a sigh of relief, obviously glad I am able to distinguish the quality of our respective outfits: „One can rarely be overdressed“, he explains: „And I never am“.

I screw the cork out of the bottle and set it aside to breathe while I begin my quest to get the glasses: „I wouldn’t have thought you as one of those overdressed, don’t worry“, I climb onto my workbench and pull the string for my ladder: „I have to apologise for my outfit, but I can’t risk ripping one of my good dresses and I had underestimated this evenings dresscode apparently“, I shoot him an accusatory look.

„Why don’t you just accio the glasses?“, he asks from three meters below me and fixes me with a quite worried gaze as I jump onto the next platform: „And the dresscode shan’t bother you, I should apologise for not inquiring more firmly about it yesterday“.

I grab the glasses with a triumphant grin and look down at him: „They are very delicate“, I sign at the glasses in my hand: „I don’t want to risk and break them. Also I don’t get out much, The exercise wont hurt me“.

„And you think bringing them down here like that is less risky than to just accio them?“, he raises an eyebrow.

I roll my eyes: „Wingardium Leviosa“, I whisper and the two glasses float gently into the air and, guided by my wand, descend slowly down towards Malfoy.

He snatches them out of the air and puts them down on the workbench. I start my climb back down as he leans over the wand I had been working on this afternoon.

„This one was broken in the middle“, I explain: „Some are just brittle from using, I fix them as good as I can“.

„This one looks as good as new“, he says and nods.

I roll my eyes: „Thanks for the legitimation, what would I do without it?“, he shakes his head disapprovingly but I see the corner of his mouth twitch almost unnoticeably.

„I’d love to stay and chat“, I say as I hop down onto the floor again: „but I’m going to be a wolf pretty soon, so“, I leave the sentence unfinished and pour the both of us a glass oft he red wine he has brought.

„You took all the wolfsbane you needed, did you?“, he asks. He doesn’t sound nervous surprisingly, just curious.

„I did“, I say and feel the pulling start in my bones.

A sharp pain in my spine makes me scream and a second later he’s beside me: „Now?“, he shrieks and finally I can see some fear in his eyes: „Is it starting now?“.

„Looks like it“, I cough out.

It hurts so badly, the pain as my spine gets stretched, my face burns as the bones scratch against each other, more and more heat flowing through my veins. I hear the sound of my jeans ripping apart and for a second I see the scars I left there myself, when I wanted to feel something, when I needed to feel human at night and all I could do was hurt myself. I know Malfoy must have seen them too but he stays quiet and I am thankful for that.

My chest expands and rips apart the shirt I wear, I know he could see my breasts now, but I don’t care, it hurts so much and I feel hot tears on my cheeks. He doesn’t look away but his eyes are fixed on my stomach, an ugly patchwork of sore skin, bruised in ever hurting wounds. I scream again and I hear the sudden change as the scream fades into the soft whimper of a hurt animal. I fall to the ground but knowing paws cushion the impact as the last bones lock into place the last hair pinches through my skin and the transformation is complete.  
I feel the pain subside almost immediately.

I’m not as tall as I was before but still giant for an animal, I’m reaching Malfoys chest easily. I look down on my own arms, now legs and see the black fur shine in the light of the workshop, patches of brown and grey shimmer trough the black.

Malfoy sits down on the workbench, panting and with wide eyes as if he had been through this ordeal, not me. I don’t like being that much smaller than he is. I am smaller than him when I’m human, but I still reach his chin, now it’s too much, somehow demeaning to look up to him.

So I trott over and jump on top of the workbench, sitting down a meter away from him.

„What on earth do you think you are doing?“, he asks and stares at me slightly displeased.

Wow, you dense motherfucker. How am I supposed to answer you?

„Oh, right“, he says and runs his fingers through his hair.

And even though I feel weird and I’m a wolf and I hate the night of the full moon and I don’t even freaking know this man before me I sart to enjoy this, he seems completely confused. A nice change from his ever so disapproving glare, so yes, a look he should show more often.

„Can you understand me?“, he asks then.

I roll my eyes and nod.

It must be quite the unusual picture to take in, because his mouth twitches uncomfortably at the sight of it.

„Great“, he says, voice faint and tired.

Entertain me now!

For reasons I can’t grasp he seems to understand every word I think.

„What do you want from me?“, he asks: „Want me to read you a story, or what?“.

Why not?

„No that’s just stupid, you’re not a child and I’m not your caretaker“, he says.

Three minutes later he takes out a book from his bag – complete with a passionate sigh – and begins to read out loud.

His voice is soothing when he reads, he has the perfect mixture of passion and carelessness.

After about an hour he snaps the book shut: „We need to do something“, he exclaims.

I gnarl.

„My throat is getting sore and this is an utter waste of time for both of us“, he nags: „I’ve read this book thrice already and so have you“.

I can’t imagine how he wants to know that but to my own displeasure he’s actually right. It’s a book form muggles „The Parfum“ by Patrick Süßkind, it had been quite surprising when I recognised the first sentence. Why would Malfoy even bother reading anything muggle? Wasn’t he obligated to hate the book just for its author?

But apparently he liked it, maybe he didn’t know it was written by one of them and I certainly wouldn’t be the one to tell him, it was only good for his character.

I roll my eyes and look down at myself. I can’t really do much like this.

„You can do loads“, he says enthusiastically: „for example go outside without people giving you trouble“, he looks at me poignantly.

That is bullshit. It’s the full moon and I’m a wolf, some people are slow in the head but nobody could possibly be too dense to make that connection.

„Do you really think they’d dare to even think about threatening you?“, he raises one eyebrow: „Have you looked into a mirror lately, because you look terrifying“, he says and stares at me.

And then, my tail wags. I stare at it horrified. What the fuck is that? And why is it happening to me? I’ve never experienced that before. Until now this tail remained politely silent and stayed where it was supposed to stay. I try quite desperately to get this abomination of a bodypart under control and when everything fails I grunt disapprovingly and sit on it. It is unbelievably uncomfortable and I feel it twitching and turning under my bum so with a heavy heart I set it free to wiggle and waggle and diggle and daggle and all the complete useless other stuff it does.

„Alright“, Draco smirks: „I’ll take that as a let’s go from your part“, he stands up and takes his coat.

I hesitate, it is true I look pretty dangerous all black and huge and with long white fangs but do I actually want that? I want people to respect not fear me.  
But really? Fuck it, maybe it is a good idea and maybe it is a terrible idea but at this point I don’t have anything to lose really.

I jump down from the workbench and make no sound as my paws collide with the floor. This animal is the perfect predator and even though I don’t want to, I start to like the feeling.  
Malfoy is at the door and uncertainly pulls out a rope from his coat pockets but the dark growl from deep inside my stomach makes him put it away and nod hastily.

„Just a thought“, he says defensively: „But if you want them all to have a heartattack, sure go on“.

I just roll my eyes and as soon as he opens the door I’m outside.

It’s so different, all the blurry lines of my senses so sharp now, the sounds crashing down on me, smells exploding in my brain. I can process everything. I smell the faint perfume Malfoy is wearing, I can hear him breathing behind me, can hear the laughter he’s trying to suppress.

Without actually knowing what to do, we enter the noisy street and immediately a mental picture forms inside my head, I know where people are standing, feel the vibration of the street under my paws, I can smell how many children, women and men there are, I can smell three dogs and the mice under the pavement. I know everything I need to both attack and defend. I’ve never felt more powerful than in that very moment.

I smell the fear in the air, hear the gasps as I walk into the light of the lamps but for the first time in four years it doesn’t bother me, they’re right to be afraid, I could do anything to them. I feel the movement of air as Malfoy comes to stay beside me and asks: „Shall we walk a little?“.

Without bothering to answer in any way I begin to move and so does Malfoy. The crowd parts and even though I can’t really believe it, not all of them seem afraid, some can’t help themselves and their mouths are open in an expression of awe.

And suddenly I feel amazing. We must look like the personification of darkness and power, Malfoy with his white skin and hair in the black coat that rustles on the pavement, his black suit underneath and me. I’m as big as a small horse, with sharp teeth matching his skin and silver black fur glistening in the light of the full moon, piercing the crowd with the amber eyes of a predator ready to rip them apart.

Maybe now they’ll see, now they’ll understand that just because I could, doesn’t mean I will hurt them. We leave behind the staring crowd and walk further down the street, bright streetlights shining golden sparks on the pavement. 

„This rather exceeded my expectations“, he says matter of factly: „So do you want to do anything special?“, he asks: „Or just walk a little?“.

I’d get annoyed with his questions since I have no way of answering him, but somehow he seems to understand everything I’m trying to tell him, so I don’t bother.  
Yes I want to go somewhere special.

He doesn’t say anything but I can feel him slowing down a little from now on following me rather than leading the way.

I know exactly where I want to go, it’s not far from here. A small building lining up with the next bigger one and the next bigger one, a perfect staircase on the rooftop of Gringotts. I hop onto the first balcony and wait for Draco to follow me but he just stands there looking up at me.

„How am I supposed to get up there?“, he says, huffing: „I’m a mere mortal and your invitation didn’t call for a broom“.

I roll my eyes but can see what he means, I had managed the jump with ease, but the balcony was a good two and a half meters above the ground, too high for Draco.

So I hop back down and crouch down at his side, putting his hand on my shoulder as I stand back up. He looks at me with bewilderment, but then he realises my plan and reluctantly grabs my fur. I can feel his fingertips touching my skin and my fur vibrates a little by the sudden warmth of them. I crouch down and with one long jump we’re both on the balcony.

„Humiliating“, he mumbles under his breath, but I ignore him, seeing the look of admiration in his eyes.

We continue our climb the same way, he’s now permanently holding on to my shoulder, I don’t know wether he realises it or if he just forgot about it but I won’t complain. Finally we reach the rooftop and I trott over to a big chimney I had always liked to lean against while sitting here. Draco lets go of me and sits down beside me.

„Are we seriously stargazing right now?“, he asks me in disbelief and mockery.

I snort and look ahead at the ocean of light that is London. It’s beautiful, buzzing with life and work and energy and everything I’m missing out on.

I lie down beside Draco and put my head on my paws, suddenly feeling very tired. I feel Draco shifting closer, maybe for warmth or maybe just to reassure himself he isn’t alone anymore. And before I know it I’m asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

I wake up cause it is freezing and I’m shivering violently. I’m confused, I’m not normally cold when I’m in my wolf form with the fur protecting me from the harsh temperatures better than any coat ever could. I can feel something warm on my back though and after a few seconds of confusion I remember Draco and that he must have fallen asleep as well and tilted to his side. I open up my eyes and the bright sunrise slowly peaking behind the buildings of London is stinging in my eyes. I close my eyes again.

Wait. Sun? I open my eyes again. It’s morning? But that would mean I’m...I look at my hand, my small normal human hand and realise I must have shifted in my sleep. All well and nice but all my clothes lie back in my room and I am butt naked. Which explains the shivering honestly. I try to sit up and cover myself with anything for that purpose but the torso of a sleeping Draco Malfoy is cuddled on top of my back, his right hand is mere millimeters away from my nipple and I can’t really move without waking him.

Oh the poor boy, he just fell asleep and suddenly, bahm, naked lady. This is bordering sexual assault.

I curse myself for my foolishness. Fucking Shit. I bite down on my tongue to prevent my teeth from snapping together. I have to wake him. I have literally no other option.

„Draco“, I say reluctantly. No movement.

„Draco“, no movement.

„Draco Malfoy“, I say again, a little too loud and sounding way too much like my mother calling me when I’d messed up for my liking but eventually he reacts.

„Hm“, he mumbles without really moving or opening his eyes.

„Wake up“, I say: „But keep your eyes closed“, I demand.

And that’s when he grudgedly opens his eyes, of course. He blinks a few times. He looks down, sees my butt, looks up and sees my face. And then at last he realises what he’s seeing and scrambles away from me, his eyes pierced shut.

„What the? Why are you naked?“, he screeches.

„Apparently I shifted back in my sleep“, I screech back: „I’m pretty sure I’m getting a cold now“.

Holding his eyes closed he climbs out of his coat and shoves it in my direction. I take it gratefully and put it on. It’s way too big for me, but it’s still warm from his body and it covers me from neck to toe and it smells like him. I take a discreet sniff as I’m shrugging into it and am pleasantly surprised by how light and almost flowery it smells. I had always imagined the Malfoys all heavy and old and dark like their manor, this was young, this was alive.

„Alright“, I say: „I’m covered“.

„Are you sure?“, he asks.

I roll my eyes: „No I’m not you twat“.

„Well then make bloody sure“, he coughs, cheeks pink and ears flushed with colour.

„Oh don’t be so dramatic, as far as I know, I’m the first girl you’ve seen naked in 6 years“, I say and make sure the coat is covering everything: „And you didn’t even have to buy me dinner first“.

He giggles. He actually giggles and if nothing else this tells me how flustered he really is by my sudden nakedness. I can’t help myself and crack a grin of my own: „Okay, I’m decent“, I say and he cautiously removes his hand from his eyes.

„You are a lot, young lady“, he sighs: „But decent you are not“, he shakes his head in amusement.

He moves back closer to me, now we are standing side by side, looking at the slowly rising sun.

„I can’t believe you woke me just because you were freezing and naked“, he says and shakes his head disapprovingly: „Now that’s just plain rude“.

„I can’t help but feel like we are bound to become friends now“, I say and sigh grudgingly.

„Yeah“, he says and sighs: „Seems like there’s no turning back now“.

„It’s official then“, I say and turn towards him, he looks at me as I put out a hand for him to shake. 

He takes it: „Friends“, he says and shakes my hand.

And thusly we were.

***

Draco, as it turns out, is the most obnoxious and annoying person I have ever met. He is silent when it’s appropriate to speak and wont shut up when he desperately should. He also isn’t the most adoring company you could be in, he is, in fact, rather rude, always a snide comment on his lips and not too generous with thank yous or excuse mes.

He is, in a whole, not behaving like any normal human would, and after a while I catch myself growing irritated with people that do. Their loud commentary gets annoying all the smiling and encouraging seems somehow shallow.

Garrick starts out not being Dracos biggest fan, but they are slowly growing used to each other, in part because I force them to have dinner with me almost every day.

It’s weird, this new routine of ours and how easily we fell into it. Draco stops by almost every day in the morning, sometimes he helps us with our work, sometimes he just sits and we talk while he skimms the newspaper for a job he would have a shot at. There’s not a lot he can do, he wont ever get a job with the ministry or it’s affiliated branches, nothing to do with law or healing. So basically his chances are more than limited. I had suggested more than once he should look in the muggle papers, since he won’t be reckognised as a former convict there and after a lot of rumbling and murmuring he actually agreed. We always have dinner. Because I love to cook and he loves to eat and we both enjoy the company and the feeling of not being alone.

Today we decide to venture outwards into muggle London and find Draco some work. He does have a lot of family money, sure, but I strongly believe a job would help him get back into a normal routine, he could meet some new people and work on his social skills. Over all beneficial. And I had decided to join him in his search, muggles wont know what I am, just put in some coloured contact lenses and I wont get shunned. It feels too good to be true, taking off the scarf around my face once we leave the leaky cauldron on the other side. I’m wearing my warm coat and gloves, but it’s a mild day in autumn and the sun is glinting on the wet pavement. I take off my coat just the second Draco starts doing the same. He looks better now, oh who am I kidding he looks good. I am properly feeding him and he seems to be getting more sleep at night. The dark circles under his eyes aren’t completely gone (I’m not even sure if that’s possible) but they look happier, not like the shadows of sleepless nights and bad dreams, but the marks of someone busy and happy and spending his nights talking to his friends and going to the theater. 

Maybe I am only imagining this (I probably am) to other people he might look just as exhausted as before. But I see a difference and that’s good enough for me. He’s wearing his most casual black suit, which doesn’t say a lot, since it’s still sporting a vest and a pocket watch with color coordinated shoes and scarf. But as he takes off his coat and blazer and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, squinting against the sun and shoving his white curls out of his eyes I am sure he might be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Not only because he’s attractive, which he surely is, in a peculiar sort of way, but because I can feel him letting down his guard, I feel him relax physically and mentally in my company and it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling in my stomach because I feel him trust me. 

And because he looks at the coloured leaves in awe but tries to hide it from me and the corner of his mouth twitches a little just a few steps away from an actual smile but he wont allow himself because he’s too cool to be amazed by something as profane as the weather. And it’s beautiful in such a weird way that I can’t really explain it myself. 

On the other hand it always makes me feel inadequate beside him. I feel the people we walk by stare at him and then glance at me, wondering what he’s doing with someone like me. I’m small and pale in every way, not only physically. I’m too thin, the colour saturation and volume turned down low. When it’s only the two of us I feel wonderful, I feel smart and witty and abnormal in a good way and I feel beautiful. But as soon as there’s someone else I deflate. 

I feel like a child dressed up in her mothers clothes. I had actually put some thought into my outfit today but it doesn’t change anything about my confidence now.

It had been foolish of me to think I could walk beside him and not feel out of place just because I’m wearing something nice and comfortable, something I would normally feel good in. We even fit together, he in his black suit and white hair and me in my black dress and white face, we look somehow belonging to each other, almost like relatives, were it not for my black hair. But still I hate walking with him, even though I love walking with him, which makes everything a little more complicated than it needs to be.

„You look lovely today“, he says and looks at me: „Your hair is beautiful“.

It should have sounded foreign from him. The great proud Draco Malfoy giving an unprompted compliment, that is basically unheard of. But no, it sounds natural almost casual even. Because yes, of course Draco likes my hair. It’s so peculiar, I am so secure in my heart that Draco actually likes me, he doesn’t lie when he says I look lovely. Sure, I know I don’t, but that’s not the point. The point is that I believe Draco believes it when he says it, because even though I’m not lovely, Draco honestly thinks I am. He’s wrong but he doesn’t know it.

„Why thank you“, I reply and pull my fingers through my curls. Since feeding Draco became a priority I am actually feeding myself better as well and it shows mostly in my hair. It had been terribly dull before but now it’s shiny and bouncy again.

„I grew it myself“, I make the lamest joke ever and cringe slightly.

He grunts disapprovingly and I have the strong feeling he secretly finds it quite amusing. That’s enough for me.

„Do you know the way?“, I ask then.

„Do I look like I’ve got all the answers?“, he asks and looks at me, eyebrow cocked up, his lips twitching with a mischievous grin.

I reckognise my own words, but I don’t comment on it. It’s bad for his character to give him what he wants too often, so I watch my responses a little.

„I can’t imagine you as a barista“, I say and look around the street: „I’m sorry, but you haven’t got the positive attitude and go do it vibe you need for that“.

„I don’t know what you’re talking about“, he replies and stares at a puddle as if it had killed his firstborn: „I am, as you are quite aware, able to convey emotions suitable for any occasion if I want to“.

I scoff: „And what would your idea of a suitable emotional response be to, let's say, a caramel frappuchino?“, I ask.  
„I would call the authorities as any sensible citizen would“, he replies, only the smallest hint of silliness in his voice: „since someone who drinks a caramel frappuchino must be a sex offender at least“.

„See“, I shout out in mocked offence: „Wrong on the first one. The correct response would be to immediately evacuate the building since he might have planted a bomb inside one oft he women toilets“, I shake my head disapprovingly: „Everybody knows the sex offenders drink white vanilla mocha“.

„I’ll be damned“, he says dryly: „And there I was thinking I’d be qualified enough to make coffee.“

„Oh that you certainly would be, dear Draco“, I assure him and I see his lips twitch with a smile: „But this isn’t about coffee, this is about the assemblage of fringe groups, some more or less dangerous than others and you need to be able to handle them“.

„I should look out for a more risk free job, one that doesn’t require training or skills“, he pauses to think about it.

„I could become a spy“, he says.

„Or join the special forces“, I tell him.

„I could just become a superhero“, he adds and I nod furiously.

„Something relaxing“, I assure him: „And easy“.


	6. Chapter 6

I drink a concoction of sugar, syrup, coffee and cream while Draco has his interview. It doesn’t take long, the manager that is interviewing him is our age, early twenties and unusually handsome. He’s got a good dozen tattoos on his arms and I watch them intently, they look beautiful, I decide to get a tattoo too, but a magical one that moves.

Draco is on his top game, he makes the manager laugh and blush and after only 15 minutes he comes over: “I’m on the waiting list”, he looks smug.

“You lucky bastard”, I say and grin at him: “When do you start?”.

“I don’t know, he said he’ll call me, so I need to buy one of those phone things”.

“Amazing”, I say and offer him a sip from my coffee. He grimaces: “Is that pure sugar?”, he asks and gives back my cup.

“Hey”, I say: “It tastes like cotton candy, that’s a good thing”.

“If you say so”, he says: “Want to get out of here?”.

“Sure”, I say and get up, I ordered my coffee to go: “I can’t believe you’re going to work at Starbucks. That’s so hipster”.

“What in Merlins name does that mean?”, he asks with furrowed brows.

“Oh it’s a muggle thing mostly”, I explain: “It’s a person who follows the latest trends and fashions, especially those regarded as being outside the cultural mainstream”.

“How do you even know this stuff?”, he asks as we walk by a huge group of tourists.

“My parents are muggles”, I tell him: “Didn’t I say that?”.

“No, you forgot to mention that”, he says, looking hurt.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you with the information, Draco”, I assure him: “I just forgot”.

“Good”, he says, looking appeased: “Because it doesn’t change anything”.

I smile at him.

“What do they do?”, he asks then: “You’re parents”.

“My dad is a nurse”, I say: “And my mom’s a journalist”.

“That sounds very interesting”, Draco nods: “Do you have any siblings?”.

“Yes, I have a sister”, I smile at that: “I love her very much, but she has a daughter now, so she’s too busy to visit me very often”.

“Is she a muggle too?”, he asks.

“Yes”, I say: “She’s a lawyer”.

“Older than you, I presume?”, he says, not really a question.

“Yes”, I nod: “Four years”.

“I wished I had siblings”, Draco murmurs mournfully.

“Siblings are great”, I agree: “But it must be nice to have your parents love and attention all to yourself?”.

“Yes”, he admits: “But it’s very lonely”.

“But you had your friends, didn’t you?”, I ask tentatively.

“Yes, sure”, he says, looking sad: “But a lot of them died or are still in Azkaban, or don’t want to talk to me anymore now that I changed sides”.

“I’m sure some day, they’ll come around”, I put my hand on his shoulder, which is quite difficult since he’s so much taller than me.

“I’m not even sure if I want that”, he shakes his head: “I’m a different person now, I don’t know if I could ever get along with them now”.

I nod: “Then it’s time for some new friends”, I say enthusiastically: “Maybe you’ll find some at your new work”.

“Yes, maybe”, he says, a small smile on his lips: “But I don’t really need any more, now that I have you”.

I blush A LOT.

I don’t say anything.

“And now”, he claps his hands: “We go shopping for you, you need some proper clothes”.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”, I ask him, looking down on my favourite black dress.

“Nothing”, he says diplomatically: “But some new pieces won’t hurt, it’s my treat”.

“Nonsense”, I snap: “I can very well pay for my own stuff”.

“I’m filthy rich”, he sighs: “Let me at least share it with someone now that I can”.

I roll my eyes: “You can pay half”, I say and he nods.

***

Going shopping with Draco is a blast, he is overly critical and he knows EVERYTHING. He keeps proving the staff wrong when it comes to patterns or stitches, things I know nothing about but he seems to know exactly what he is talking about. 

He insists that we only go into real fancy muggle shops: Prada, Gucci, Chanel, the likes and everything is so expensive I get a bit nauseous.

“Draco, I can’t afford any of this stuff, let’s just go to H&M”, I whisper as the woman inside Prada comes over to us with two glasses of champagne.

“I’ll pay for what you want to get here and you pay for your H&M stuff yourself”, he insists.

“Draco, that’s too much”.

“Come on, let me have some fun”, he whines: “Or I wont talk to you for at least a week”.

“Fine”, I sigh and take the champagne: “But I’ll cook you some fancy dinner tonight, alright?”.

“Deal”, he says and shows one of his rare real smiles. 

I become a puddle.

***

We decide to take the bags back to my apartment before going grocery shopping for dinner. We have five huge bags and I spent a fortune at H&M after Draco spent more than I make in six months in Prada.

Garrick is asleep when I go to tell him about our dinner plans so I let him sleep.

“Alright”, I say, putting on the new Prada boots we got, my old ones are hideous compared to them: “It’s time for Aldi”.

“Is that a market?”, Draco asks and smirks at me for putting on the new shoes.

“It’s a grocery store”, I tell him: “You’ll see”.

“And it’s open on a Saturday? Do muggles never take a break?”, he looks worried.

“Sunday is break day”, I tell him: “Saturday is a normal workday for a lot of people”.

“I’ve never done gorcery shopping before”, he admits as we walk out of the door into the brisk evening: “Dobby always did that, and after he was gone Maxie did”.

“Is Maxie still with your family?”, I ask him while walking sternly out into Muggle London. 

I do all my shopping there because no one is scared of me, no one shuns me, if I didn’t love magic that much I would have left Diagon Alley a long time ago and lived among the Muggles as one of them.

“No”, Draco shakes his head: “She works at Hogwarts now”.

“Do you miss her?”, I ask as I’m looking for a quiet corner to apparate.

“Yes, sometimes”, he admits: “But I miss Dobby more, I never got to apologise to him”.

“What did you do to him?”, I ask delicately.

“That’s a long story”, he sighs: “I’ll tell you some other time”.

I don’t want to pry so I just nod and say: “Okay”.

We walk into a small side alley that is dark and reaks of dirt. I hold out my arm for Draco to grab so he can apparate beside me, he doesn’t know where to go.

But he doesn’t grab my arm as I had expected. Instead he laces his fingers through mine and holds my hand. My heart skipps a beat and I look at him in bewilderment.

He doesn’t sense that anything might be wrong, loking forward, slightly hunched over in anticipation of the uncomfortable feeling of apparating.

I look down on our intertwined hands and swallow. It feels good.

“Are we going or what?”, he asks me, eyes already closed.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and apparate.

***

Aldi is a whole new experience for Draco, he has never been to a grocery store, his only experience in food shopping is going to the farmers market on Sundays with his mother.  
“There’s so much stuff here”, he says as we move from the vegetables to the fish. I’ll make Asparagus with Salmon and lemon butter tonight although I haven’t told him that yet.

“How can you not just buy everything?”, he asks, trailing behind me like a puppy: “How do you not just buy everything?”.

“It’s called self control”, I say, then I laugh: “Oh who am I kidding, it’s all in the budget”.

“What are you cooking tonight?”, he asks me, examining a tub of Nutella.

“That’s a surprise”, I say: “That’s Nutella”, I explain: “It’s a chocolate spread you put on your toast”.

“Can we have some?”, Draco asks innocently.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal”, I say and smile at him: “You get to pick three items and I buy them for you, nothing over 15 pounds though, I’m broke”.

“Okay”, Draco beams at me and hands me the Nutella so I can put it into the cart.

I already have cherries for a cherry pie (I still have a leftover crust in the freezer), asparagus, lemons, thyme, potatoes and a huge tub of vanilla ice cream.

The only thing still missing is the salmon.

I pick out enough for the three of us and want to move towards the exit but Draco wants to go through the whole store at least three times. 

At the end I have to buy him the Nutella, a cup of Instant Ramen and a pack of Sour cream and onion Pringles. I am worried for his health.

The total is not too bad and I am glad my card isn’t being declined because I’ve been there and it’s never pleasant.

I get a separate bag for Draco so he can carry his own stuff but he ends up carrying everything because he’s a gentleman and insists on it.

Cooking dinner is very pleasant. Garrick is still taking his nap when we come home and I make myself busy with drinking the wine Draco brought (he brings a bottle EVERY day) and preparing the potatoes for cooking. Draco sits next to me on the kitchen counter asking if he could help every three minutes. After the eighth time I give him the lemons to squeeze. He is very eager and motivated and it is honestly adorable.

Draco is beginning to let go of his persona more and more, he allows himself to be kind and vulnerable around me and I appreciate that he trusts me so much, even though we’ve only really known each other for three weeks now.

We’ve already made plans for the next full moon, well to be honest I made plans, he just had to go along with it because - as he says - it’s my “Special day”.

So I decided I just wanted a nice night in, with movies and blankets and some Yankee Candles for my sensitive nose and he was okay with it since he has never, in his life, watched a movie, which is unthinkable to me. What does he do with all his time? Probably study and read books, what a nerd.

“What are you doing?”, he asks over the lemon juice.

“I’m preparing a pie”, I tell him, slicing up cherries.

“Why don’t you just use magic to do it for you?”, he asks.

“I feel like that’s cheating”, I tell him: “I want this to come from the heart, I need to put some work into it”.

“I wouldn’t think it’s cheating”, he assures me: “I know it comes from the heart”.

I smile and continue slicing my cherries. I want this dinner to have everything right, I want him to taste the gratitude I feel because he’s here for, I want him to smell how glad I am that he’s in my life. Also I want to impress him with my skills, but that’s a whole other story.

I wake Garrick ten minutes before dinner is ready, so he has some time to wake up and get ready. I worry about Garrick sometimes, he’s getting older every day, he sleeps more, he has trouble remembering simple details, he struggles with the stairs and the workload of the store wears him out. I want to help him, but I can’t. I love him so much, he is brilliant and kind and a bit crazy sometimes but he’s part of my family now.

“That smells delicious, Lilith”, Garrick says when he sits down at the small table next to Draco, who is pouring the wine.

“Thank you”, I smile as I levitate the plates over from the kitchen: “I hope it tastes good”.

“I’m sure it will”, Draco says and smiles at me: “Thank you for making it”.

“You’re very welcome”, I sit down and pile salmon and asparagus on their plates: “Don’t eat too much, there is desert”.

“I can’t promise anything”, Garrick says with a mouth full of potato.

“This is amazing”, Draco says with closed eyes.

I blush: “Thank you”.

I try some myself and it is actually is really good, perfectly balanced, nicely seasoned, the salmon falls apart on my tongue and the asparagus is nice and crunchy.

“What are your plans for tonight?”, Garrick asks.

I look at Draco and he looks at me, we laugh.

“We don’t know yet”, I tell Garrick: “Maybe just listen to some music and read?”, I ask Draco.

He shrugs: “I kind of thought we could go out tonight”, he says sheepishly.

“Where do you want to go?”, I ask nervously: “You know we’re not welcome anywhere”.

“We could go into a Muggle Bar, or a club, I don’t know”, he says and my eyes widen.

“Draco Malfoy voluntarily mingling with muggles?”, I ask him mockingly: “Who are you?”.

“They aren’t too bad, I have come to realise that”, Draco defends himself.

His lips are stained red from the wine and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the fireplace. He looks gorgeous.

“Alright”, I say: “Let me google where we could go”.

“Let you what now?”, Draco asks with furrowed brows.

“Honestly”, I sigh: “I have so much to teach you dude”.

Draco chuckles: “I’m a fast learner. But what is a google?”.

“It’s a search engine on the internet”, I explain: “Do you know what the internet is?”.

“Yes I’ve heard of that in Mugglestudies”, he says proudly.

“Oh I didn’t know you had Mugglestudies”, I tell him with furrowed brows.

“I didn’t”, he admits: “My parents would have never allowed it, but I knicked a couple of books from the library”.

“Good on you”, I praise him: “I have so much to show you, the internet is great. You’ll love Wikipedia, it really has potential”.

“What’s that?”, he asks.

“It’s basically a library on your computer”, I explain: “It’s amazing”.

“That does sound great”, he admits and takes another bite.

“And there’s e-mail”, I go on enthusiastically: “It’s like an electronic letter, no need for an owl and it delivers instantly”.

“Uhu”, he says disinterested with his mouth full of food.

“I’ll show you some time”, I tell him with a grin.

“Why don’t you ever show me this stuff?”, Garrick asks accusatorily.

“Because you’re too old for that kind of stuff Garrick”, I grin at him.

“Rude”, Garrick murmurs and Draco laughs.

Finding a club is not easy but manageable, picking out my outfit on the other hand is a whole process.

Normally I would rely completely on Dracos opinion but since he’s never set foot into a muggle club before he doesn’t really know himself. So I’m on my own. Also there’s google for some inspiration so that helps.

So Draco and Garrick eat pie while I go up to my flat (we use Garricks flat for our get togethers since it’s way bigger than mine) and start the process.  
I’m standing before my closet and don’t even know where to start. All I have are work clothes. I turn around toward the bags of new stuff and get to unpacking everything. I try on a deep blue dress, it’s nice but I look like I’m on my way to church, so no to that one. 

I try on simple jeans and my favourite Nirvana shirt, too basic. I lose the jeans but keep the shirt, I just feel so comfortable in it.

In the end I decide for a short black skirt and my new biker boots. I look good, I think, I’ll look different than the others in the club but I always do and I normally don’t mind.  
I put in my coloured contacts, which stings a little; I look at my reflection in the mirror and I definitely need some make up.

At first I put on a bit of makeup, just to cover up the bags under my eyes and the scar over my eye but then I have the sudden impulse to put on eyeliner and Mascara, so I do that and I’m ready to go.

I walk back into the dining room, the two of them are laughing about something Draco just said, I can smell the smoke from the fireplace and the wine. Both of them are already tipsy, I can see it in the way Draco has rolled up his sleeves, his stature not as straight as it usually is.

He looks over to me and stops laughing. 

I become self conscious: “Is this alright?”, I ask him, unsure of myself.

“You look beautiful”, he says, barely more than whisper.

I feel my cheeks getting hot and across the room Draco blushes.

“Thank you”, I say: “Are you ready to go?”.

“Yes”, he says and tears his eyes away from me, taking one last sip from his wine and standing up.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come with us?”, I ask Garrick for the thousandth time.

“No my dear”, he says, already yawning: “You go have fun”.

“We will”, Draco grins and puts his arm around my waist, guiding me through the front door


	7. Chapter 7

We apparate there, Draco takes my hand again and the skin where he touches me tingles for minutes after he’s let go.

The queue is miles long and we get in line a bit disgruntled.

“Now I wish I would have brought something to drink”, I say.

“I have my wand”, Draco says: “Want me to conjure something?”.

I hesitate and look around, there are a lot of Muggles: “Be discreet”, I tell him.

“I always am”, he says with a smirk: “Stand in front of me”.

I do as I’m told, a second later I feel the heat of magic in my back and Draco emerges with two bottles of Cognac.

“Voila”, he says and gives me a bottle.

I open the bottle and the harsh, yet sweet smell of the liquor reaches my nose, I close my eyes for a second.

“Here’s to a good night”, he says and I smash my bottle against his.

“To us”, I say and he beams at me.

The queue moves slowly and by the time we arrive at the bouncer it’s already half past ten and our bottles are half empty.

“ID”, the bouncer grumbles.

I get out my drivers license only to realise that Draco doesn’t have a muggle ID, I begin to sweat a little.

“The liquor has to stay outside”, he says, pointing at the cognac.

Draco and I look at each other and without a word we both chug the rest of the alcohol.

I show the bouncer the card and he nods, beckoning me through the door. I can hear Draco mutter something under his breath and the next moment he’s beside me, grinning and tucking his wand back into his pants.

“You gangster”, I grin.

“A little magic never hurt nobody”, he says.

“That poor bastard could really get in trouble if the cops show up”, I say loudly.

The music is already deafening from the hallway.

We decide to give up our coats at the cloakroom but Draco insists on keeping his wand on his body, so I put mine in the waistband of my tights and just hand over my bag and coat, keeping my money and ID inside my bra.

“Want to get a drink first?”, I yell at Draco, who is looking proper uncomfortable.

“That would be great, yes”, he says.

He looks like an angel in the dim light, long lashes shading his sparkling eyes from the strobe light on the dancefloor, flushed cheeks with excitement and lips wet from the liquor.  
I take his hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and guide him towards the bar.

I get a Mojito for both of us and spend a small fortune on it, then we walk over to the far wall. The dancefloor is quaking, hundreds of young adults are bouncing up and down with the music and I feel like after the Mojito I’ll be more than happy to join them.

After about half the glass I feel Draco relax next to me, after a while he even starts to tap his foot with the beat and I take that as a good sign.  
I just want to ask Draco if he would like to dance when a group of giggling girls comes over.

“Hey there”, the tallest one shouts at us. She is very pretty, with long blonde hair and a tiny waist.

“Hello”, Draco shouts back.

“Wanna dance?”, the girl yells with a seductive smile.

Draco seems taken aback, he looks at me questioningly for a moment.

I swallow, hard, and smile at him: “Go on”, I say into his ear: “Have fun”.

The girl takes his hand and together they disappear on the dancefloor.

I’m standing there absolutely shellshocked. I should have known something like that was going to happen, Draco is gorgeous, of course sooner or later someone would come up to him and flirt and dance and make eyes at him.

What I didn’t expect were my own feelings about that. Red hot jealousy is coursing through my veins, I feel my vision blur as the wolf inside me yearns back for his friend, his pack, his family. Angry with myself I take another sip of my drink, he has every right to dance with as many beautiful women as he chooses. But deep down, maybe, I had hoped that that would include me.

I spot the two of them on the dancefloor and have to laugh. Draco is flailing his limbs around like a madman, stomping his feet with the beat, he looks ridiculous. I feel something warm spread inside my chest. Damn it. I take another sip of Mojito.

I spend a good hour just standing there, watching the two of them dance, I get myself a new drink after the first is empty and start getting a little bit tipsy. A couple of guys come by to talk to me but I don’t care about any of them and they leave pretty soon once I tell them I’m not interested. Some are rather clingy and handsy and a couple of times I am tempted to put a curse on them.   
One of them is here now (James or Jacob or something like that) and he won’t stop tucking my hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek.

“I told you not to touch me”, I say for the fourth time.

“I just can’t resist”, he says, slurring his words, he looks a little cross eyed.

“Well try a little harder”, I roll my eyes.

“Hey Babe”, a voice from behind me shouts: “Is there a problem?”.

I turn around and Draco is mere centimeters away from me, looking sweaty and heated.

“This dude won’t stop bothering me”, I say loudly.

Man with the letter J somewhere takes a step back: “Sorry, didn’t know this one was claimed already”, he says and I see red.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, I yell at him: “I’m a person. No one and nothing can claim me, I’m a free human being just like you”.

“Whatever you say”, Douchebag says and strolls away through the crowd.

“Are you alright?”, Draco turns me around by my shoulders.

I’m shaking, hands balled into fists: “Yes”, I say: “I’m fine. Thanks for saving me”.

“How long was he bothering you for?”, he asks, hands still on my shoulders.

“I don’t know. Too long”, I down the rest of my drink: “Want something to drink?”. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner”, he says, real guilt in his eyes, completely ignoring my question.

“You were busy”, I say and I’m very bad at hiding my jealousy.

“Well, that won’t happen again”, he says with an apologetic smile: “Let’s get you something to drink”.

Draco pays for the Tequila shots (three for each of us) without argument.

“Did you get her number?”, I ask him after the second shot.

“I did actually”, he says, taking out a slip of paper from his pocket: “What I am to do with this is a complete mystery to me, though”.

“You call her”, I tell him: “I can show you how”.

“Why would I call her?”, he asks, completely taken aback.

“Well, you don’t have to obviously, but she was really into you”, I explain to him and down the last Tequila.

“You think so?”, he asks: “I mean, obviously, but how can you tell?”.

“She asked you to dance, first of all”, I tell him and he nods: “And she didn’t run when you started dancing”, I laugh.

He lets out a startled laugh: “It can’t have been that bad”, he says hopefully.

“It was horrifying, Draco”, I say, still laughing.

“Well it was fun though”, he says with a grin: “Would have been more fun with you”.

I feel my heart skip a beat.

“Well”, I hesitate: “If you want to, we could also dance for a while”.

“I’d love that”, he smiles at me: “Don’t run away though”.

“No promises”.

Dancing with Draco is so much fun because I’m a way better dancer and he keeps asking me to show him my moves just to butcher them relentlessly. Now that I’m dancing a lot of guys come up to me, wanting to dance with me but they don’t interest me, I just take Dracos hand and tell them I have a boyfriend. 

After a while I hope another would come just so I could take Dracos hand again.

When we come back home around five in the morning we are both so drunk it takes ten minutes to alohomora the lock. We took the subway back because apparating drunk is a bad idea and it took about three quarters of an hour. Draco fell asleep on the subway three minutes in, so I let him sleep and listened to some music on my Discman. It was peaceful and quiet and the smell of vomit only bothered me a little. I watched Draco the most time and how his lids would flicker with the bad dream he was having. I sighed deeply more often than I want to admit.

Draco is too drunk to return to the Manor so I tell him to just get changed and use one of the toothbrushes I bought for emergencies and sleep with me in my bed. I shouldn’t be this excited but imagining him so close to me makes me fuzzy and warm and giddy.

“But I don’t have my Pyjamas”, he says, outraged at the proposal.

“Just sleep in your boxers”, I tell him, unbelievably tired.

“I’ve never done that”, he says, thinking about it.

I usually sleep naked so I know how good it feels not to be restricted by clothes in bed: “You’ll like it, I promise”.

“Alright”, he says: “If you say so”.

I blush at his trust. I just keep blushing all over the place, this needs to stop.

“Okay, you go first”, I say and push him into the bathroom.

I walk over towards my closet and frantically search for something I could wear for the night. I don’t have pyjamas, I don’t need pyjamas, I don’t want pyjamas.

All I have is a ridiculously flimsy nightgown my sister gifted me when I turned eighteen, with a snarky joke about being an adult now and having to have certain experiences. Great.  
When Draco comes back out of the bathroom I try my best not to stare and busy myself with fluffing the pillows, but I can’t help watching him from the corner of my eyes. 

He is tall and lean and so pale he is almost white, there are huge scars on his chest and I suck in my breath violently.

“What?”, he asks, delirious.

“Nothing”, I say immediately, ashamed of my reaction. If anyone shouldn’t be startled about scars it’s me.

“Is it these?”, he asks and points at the biggest scar on his right chest.

I nod silently: “What happened?”.

“Get ready”, he says: “I’ll tell you in bed”.

“Okay”, I say and try for a small smile to see if he’s mad at me.

He smiles back and I let out a silent relieved groan.

I brush my teeth as fast as I can and throw my clothes from my body. The nightgown is ridiculous, all lace and silk but it’s my only option so I put it on. 

To not make a complete fool of myself I put on my fuzzy cardigan on top, just for the way from the bathroom to the bed because no way in hell Draco is going to see me in this.

Draco is lying in bed when I come inside the room, he’s breathing so calmly and rhythmically that I think he’s asleep for a minute, but then I see his eyes and they are staring right at me. He smiles a little. I can’t help but smile back.

I switch off the big lamp, now the room is only dimly light by the lamp on my nightstand, I slip out of my cardigan. I can feel his eyes on me. I shudder. I cimb into bed beside him.  
I have a big bed so we’re not touching but I feel his heat through the blanket.

“Alright”, I say: “Tell me”.

“Curious, aren’t you?”, he grins.

“Of course”, I say: “You know everything about my scars”.

“No I don’t”, he says: “You haven’t told me about those on your thighs”.

I feel the blood rush through my ears. So he did see them.

“Tell me about yours and I’ll tell you about mine”, I say before I can think better of it.

“That’s a deal”, he says with a smile: “Where should I start?”.

“Start at the beginning”, I say.

“I don’t know if you know this”, he says, staring up at the ceiling: “But the Dark Lord gave me the mission to kill the headmaster”.

I gasp: “I didn’t know that”.

“At the beginning of my sixth year he gave me the order, he made me a deatheater”, he says.

I stay quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“I tried everything I could think of to fulfill my mission, cursed objects, poisoned mead, everything but nothing worked”, he let out a shuddering breath: “One day, I was feeling particularly bad, I ended up in the bathroom and I was crying. Harry Potter walked in on me”, he shook his head: “We started to duel and he cast this spell I had never heard before, I can’t remember it anymore but suddenly all there was was pain and blood. I passed out pretty quickly, Professor Snape stitched me back up but the scars always remained”.

“I would have never thought Harry Potter would do such a thing”, I say, shaking my head.

“He actually apologized to me for it, during my trial”, Draco says, a faint smile on his lips: “I have forgiven him just like he has forgiven me”.

“That’s very generous of you”, I say.

“Not really, no”, he shakes his head: “So much wrong was done during that time, a little curse that didn’t even kill me doesn’t really stand out”.

I laugh: “True”, I stop laughing: “Do they hurt?”.

“No”, he says: “Never. Do yours?”.

“Yes”, I say, looking at his pointy nose: “Most of the time. But I take a potion for that, it helps a little”.

“Now tell me about yours”, Draco says and suddenly he looks over at me. I feel caught, I was just staring at his face and he caught me.

I swallow: “What do you want to know?”.

“I guess I want to know why?”, he says silently.

I hesitate and think about it: “You know, sometimes it just all gets too much. The loneliness becomes overwhelming, the sadness all consuming, the anger burning and I didn’t know what else to do”.

“Why don’t you just throw things?”, he asks me.

“I do sometimes”, I admit with a grin: “I’ve destroyed this room more than once already. But it doesn’t work as well, you know?”.

“No”, he admits: “I don’t understand, not really. Doesn’t it hurt?”.

“That’s the whole point”, I laugh: “I need something that brings me out of my emotions and the pain works best for that”.

“Okay”, he says: “How often do you do it?”.

“Not once since I’ve met you”, I say silently and he smiles at me.

“That’s good”, he says.

“Now sleep”, I say, suppressing a yawn: “It’s late”.

“Alright. Sleep well”, he closes his eyes.

“Dream something nice”, I whisper and then I’m asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

I wake up to the familiar ache in my bones. The day of the full moon. I keep my eyes closed to the harsh light and listen to Dracos breathing to my right. It’s calm and even and so close. I frown. It’s really very close. I concentrate and I feel myself rising and falling with each of his breaths. I open my eyes a little and immediately see that I wandered over to his side during the night, my head is on his chest, my arm on his stomach. Embarrassment rushes over me.

“Good morning”, his voice is deep and raspy from not using it for hours and the yelling inside the club.

I pinch my eyes shut. Of course he would find me like that. Of course.

“Good morning”, I say and move to get off of him.

“No”, he whines: “You’re so nice and warm, stay”.

I smile and bury my face in his chest.

“My breath is horrible”, he murmurs and scrambles for his wand.

“Do me too”, I plead.

Draco performs the spell with ease and I immediately feel better.

“What time is it?”, he asks and looks around.

Reluctantly I sit up and look at my bedside table: “It’s half past two in the afternoon”, I smirk.

“What?”, he half screams: “My mother will be worried senseless”.

I laugh: “How old are you?”.

“That doesn’t mean anything”, he says: “Ever since the war my mother has been worried about me, she can’t help it after what we’ve been through”.

“Just send her an owl to tell her you’re okay”, I say.

“No, that won’t do”, he shakes his head: “I have to leave”.

He jumps out of the bed and hurries into the bathroom. I feel the cold creep in where his body had been.

“Do you at least want some breakfast?”, I yell into the bathroom.

“No”, he yells back: “I’ll be fine”.

“Okay”, I murmur and crawl out of the bed.

Draco had left in a hurry with the promise to be back around four, before the sun sets. I had had a lazy afternoon, I put on some old clothes I wouldn’t miss, ate the tiniest bit of plain toast for breakfast (I just couldn’t stomach anything more) and called my mother to let her know I wouldn’t be alone tonight.

My mother is the sweetest person I know (apart from my sister and my father…and Draco) and she worries about me constantly. She has this idea of me joining a werewolf support group and becoming happy between my peers and I really thought of it for a couple of weeks, I even searched the papers and the internet but I couldn’t find one. Now she says I should fund one and honestly I think it might be a great idea, meeting people who are struggling with the same things as me. I’ve been scouring the papers for a good room I could rent for that but so far I haven’t found anything.

She asks weather I’m eating enough and like always I lie to her and say I do. She asks me how I’m doing and I can’t help but tell her about Draco, I tell her how kind he is and how sad and how he makes me laugh harder than I have laughed in a long time.

“When am I going to meet him?”, she asks.

“I don’t know, mom”, I say: “I don’t want to overwhelm him”.

“Lilith”, she says earnestly: “I want to meet your boyfriend”.

I hesitate for a second: “No, mom, he’s just a friend”.

“Oh please”, she laughs: “With how you talk about him you’re clearly in love”.

I swallow hard, is it this easy to detect?

“Well”, I say and breathe out heavily: “That doesn’t automatically make him my boyfriend though, does it?”.

“Oh honey”, my mom sighs: “I’m sorry”.

“Don’t be”, I say, trying to sound positive: “It’s good the way it is, I couldn’t ask for anything more”.

“He’ll fall in love with you eventually”, she says proudly: “I know he will, you are a great person”.

I laugh: “Thanks mom”, I say.

“I love you so much, Lilith”, she smiles.

“I love you too mom”, I say and close my eyes because I believe her.

We hang up shortly after because it’s nearing four o’clock and I want to get ready before Draco arrives.

It’s half past five and Draco is still not here and the loneliness and anxiety make my heart burn. I think of all the things that might have happened to him, he might be in the hospital, he might be dead. It’s not like him to just not show up.

I pace around my room but it’s too late now to go and get an owl and ask what’s wrong, the sun would set every minute now and I can’t shift in the middle of the road.

It starts almost immediately after I’ve thought it. My bones start stretching and scratching against each other, I feel the hair prick through my skin, I feel my teeth shift. The pain is almost unbearable but after a minute it is gone and the only reminder that it had ever been there is the dark black fur on my arms.

I continue pacing, I can’t control the howls escaping my mouth, howls of despair. I have never felt this lonely. I continue pacing in my room, listening to the goings on in the street and the apartments below me but nothing catches my interest. All I can think of is Draco and what might be wrong, what might have happened.

After another hour the doorbell rings and I flinch. I didn’t even hear anyone coming up the stairs, I was too much immersed in my own anxiety. I walk over to the door and listen. I can hear a rapid heartbeat, I can hear panting and shuffling of shoes on wood. Draco.

I yelp loudly and try to open the door, but to no avail.

“I’ll just let myself in, alright?”, Draco asks from the other side of the door.

I yelp again.

The lock clicks and then he is standing in front of me, completely unharmed.

I growl at him involuntarily. I want to stop myself but I can’t, I am absolutely furious.

“Listen”, he says, kneeling down in front of me, so now he is smaller than me: “My parents had old friends over and they insisted I stay and entertain them, I’m really sorry”.

I growl again, louder this time, I can feel the fur on my back getting stiff, my head down, teeth bare and ears layed flat against my head  
.   
It must have been a pretty terrifying sight because Draco ducks even further.

“I’m so sorry, they wouldn’t let me go”, he pleads: “I was so worried about you, how you had to shift on your own, you were probably worried about me and here I was sitting at home eating sandwiches with boring people from the ministry”.

I thought you had died.

“I am so sorry”, he says again and I feel my anger fading. It’s not really his fault, is it?

I stop growling and he stands up.

“Thank you”, he says with a small smile.

At that my tail begins to wag violently. I start growling again, but this time I growl at myself. Don’t be so obvious, oh my god.

“So how about that movie?”, he asks and I lead him back into my room. 

I already prepared everything, the projector is connected to my VHS player and is projecting on the far, empty wall I use as a cinema screen on special occasions, all Draco needs to do is press play, I thought he might be able to do that. But for the event he is not, I wrote down the instructions next to the projector.

I plop myself down on the bed in front of my bowl of popcorn, Draco has his own since I won’t be using my nonexistant hands.

“What are we watching?”, Draco asks as he inspects the instructions, making himself familiar with the projector.

The Lord of the Rings.

“I have no idea what that is”, Draco murmurs as he manages to press play.

How do you understand me?

Draco looks guilty then: “I’m a Legilimens”.

Wow. I didn’t know that.

“Professor Snape taught me before he died”, Draco says, sadness in his voice.

Do you miss him?

“Every day”, he says: “I wasn’t too nice to him the last year he was alive”.

I’m sure he forgave you.

“I hope so”, he murmurs, eyes fixed on the movie.

How come I don’t feel it when you enter my mind?

“I don’t know, actually”, he admits: “Maybe it’s different with animals”, then he looks over at me, shocked: “Not that you’re an animal…you know what I mean”.

Yes, I know. Don’t worry about it.

Draco is very invested in the movie. He keeps asking questions, like how come elves exist and he never heard of them. I have to explain to him that nothing in the movie is real, the world, the characters, the magic. It’s just make belief and that makes him sad a little.

The movie is as amazing as when I first saw it in the cinema last year and I feel myself relax a lot as the minutes tick by.

I feel very happy, happier than I have felt in a long time, not being alone soothes my soul, having Draco here, who keeps talking over the dialogue (which is infuriating), asking question, commenting on the prortrayel of magic, fangirling over Aragorn.

When the movie is over we sit there in silence and watch the whole credits, both of us lost in this different world.

“Movies are great”, Draco whispers: “Can we watch another?”.

Sure. Let’s watch A Walk To Remember, that just came out. 

Draco stands up enthusiastically and puts the new VHS in the player.

The movie is so romantic and so sad that I stay awake even though the tiredness is gnawing at my eyes.

By the end Draco is crying.

You okay?

“Yes”, he sniffles: “It’s just so sad”.

That it is.

“Want to sleep now?”, he asks yawning.

I don’t answer, I burry myself under the covers and close my eyes. Draco chuckles: “Alright then”.

Draco has brought his Pyjamas this time, but he changes in front of me, which I really appreciate.

I close my eyes again when he climbs under the covers next to me, the last thing I feel is his hand resting gently on my furry shoulder. Under the covers my tail wags tiredly.

***

I am naked the next morning. Of course. Draco is still fast asleep so I hurry out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth.  
When I come back into the bedroom Draco is sitting on the bed, rubbing his eyes.

“Good morning”, he says raspily.

“Good morning”, I say and smile at him.

“Would you mind letting the owl in?”, Draco asks and points at the window. A large owl is scratching the glass, a huge newspaper tied to its leg.

“Sure”, I say and open the window. The owl hops in and hoots accusatorily but still stretches out its leg for me to collect the parcel.

I retrieve the newspaper and give the owl a short stroke over the head, then it turns around and flies back out the window it came from.

“Do you mind?”, I ask and Draco shrugs. I never read the newspaper and it would probably do me some good.

I unroll the paper and the first headline jumps out at me.

'Greyback sighted in Dublin.'

I stare at the headline with wide eyes, my heart beating faster and faster.

„I can’t believe this“, I gasp, clutching the sheet of paper in my hand: „I thought they had caught all of them“, I look at Draco with wide eyes and I see him flinch a little.

Apparently he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

„Well“, he hesitates: „They got most of them. I think the ministry wasn’t keen on sharing it’s failures and they, kind of, forgot to mention it“, he looks at me with concern.

„But that’s him, Draco“, I say and breathe way too loud, my eyes almost popping out of their sockets: „Surely you must remember that’s him“.

He nods slowly: „Of course“, he says then.

I look at him, waiting, when he doesn’t go on I ask further: „I always thought the boulder killed him. I thought he was dead“, I shudder, thinking of the crunching sound as the huge rock buried the creatures head. „But you were on trial with the others, at least partly, you must have noticed he wasn’t there with you“.

„Well, yes“, he murmurs and kneeds his hands: „I wasn’t with the others for long, as you know, since Potter put in a good word for me and I made a deal and all that. So I guess I thought he was tried somewhere else“, he swallows: „Or maybe in the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures“, he stops abruptly and looks at me in shock.

He wants to say something else, but I don’t want to hear it: „But you write to your mother. And you read the Prophet“, I say briskly: „Are you really trying to tell me that after almost five years it just escaped your attention that Greyback is still at large?“.

There’s a long pause: „No“, he says then: „I knew“.

I just stare at him, not even really angry, just betrayed.

„Oh my god“, I say: „I think they told me, while I was in the coma“, I look around looking for something that isn’t there: „They kept talking to me, I had forgotten, but they told me, I remember now“.

„I thought it best not to tell you“, he hurries to explain: „There’s nothing you can do about it and I came to the conclusion not to worry you further, I didn’t want you to feel unsafe“.

I interrupt him: „You didn’t want to worry me?“, I repeat with a venomous weight on the word worry: „You think“, I breathe in to calm me down: „After all this time, all that happened that you have any right, what so ever, to decide what I can and can’t know? I’m always worried, Draco, every day, every minute and it drives me insane, because I never knew what I was worried about, that’s what made it so unbearable, you fucking asshole“, I gnarl my teeth and a deep, wolfish growl escapes my mouth.

„I’m sorry“, he says, now sternly looking back at me: „I was trying to help“.

And I believe him, of course I do, it’s Draco, I know he wanted to help.

„I know“, I say tiredly: „but you didn’t and I need you to promise me to never withhold information this important from me again“.

He nods briskly, clearly torn between the relief of being forgiven this quickly and his hurt pride of being told off so nonchalantly.

We stand there another minute or two without saying much, both of us needing to calm down and sort our thoughts.

„I have an idea“, I say then: „It might sound ludicrous at first, but it’s genius, I think“.

I see his brows slide up his forehead, clearly sceptical about both the idea and my voice that is devoid of anger. But well I don’t hold grudges. I am angry and then I’m not. With most people at least.

„What if“, I say: „We go out there and catch Greyback ourselves?“, I pause and look at him. No reaction.

„Think about it“, I continue: „We’re both basically unemployed and have a lot of time to spare, we have savings we could use for travelling, investigating and once we catch him we can show everyone that we’re on the right side. We could show them we’re good people“.

There is a long pause.

„I’ve never heard a more stupid idea in my life“, he snarls at me: „I can’t for the life of me – and believe me I’ve tried – imagine a more sorry looking bunch of people than us both“, I want to interject but he stampedes on: „I already lost my whole life and family, I will not loose my dignity, it’s the only thing I have left“.

„Well fuck your dignity, Draco“, I say sharply and more loudly than anticipated: „Is your dignity really more important than catching this asshole that did this to us?“, I breathe heavily: „He is out there and he has a life, Draco, after what he did. He has everything we don’t. He shredded me, figuratively and literally and he’s still doing whatever he chooses“, I blink furiously to stop tears from forming: „I will not allow him to do what he did to me and destroy some poor kids life that was at the wrong time at the wrong place. And I had never thought you would“.

„Wake up, Lilith“, he shouts and it’s the first time I have heard Draco be this loud: „This is our life now. I’m a criminal and you’re a freak, that’s how it is and nothing will ever change that, not catching a murderer or applying for some stupid job or buying groceries for your old neighbour. This is our life and it sucks, but it’s the only one we fucking have, so instead of chasing some stupid ghost and trying to turn back time I think it’s about time you start accepting yourself for what you are and start living your life instead of running from it“, he breathes heavily: „You want revenge, that’s it, so get off your high horse, pretending you want to save some other unknown kid from him. Just say it like it is, you want to see him burn.“

For fucks sake.

„You don’t get it at all“, I say exasperatedly: „I want justice, Draco or the thing that comes closest. This isn’t about hating myself and trying to change who I am, it’s the last step I need to come to terms with myself“.

„Oh please, I know what this is about. We are the same, Lil, we both hate ourselves for what we are and we can’t accept it and now you’re dreaming up this fairytale where somehow we get redemption and everything changes and the fate is on our side. It’s delirious.“

„No we’re not. We are not the same. Yes, I hate myself, but I don’t hate myself for this, Draco“, I point out myself, everything I am: „Don't you get it? I’ve done nothing wrong in my life, I was at the wrong place at the wrong time and something terrible happened to me. I don’t hate myself for something others did to me and I don’t hate the werewolf me either because it’s not her fault, it’s not my fault. I hate how people treat me, I hate how they seem more outraged at me than at the monster that attacked me, I hate that they made me feel like I had to hate myself more than him, I hate how they talk about tolerance and don’t live it. I hate being spit on and I hate not being able to defend myself because if I did I would prove them right. I hate that I had dreams once and that they were taken away from me, I hate that I will never recover from this and I hate that sometimes I want to die so badly I forget how to laugh. But I will not hate myself for this. I can’t“, I am panting: „You did something terrible and that’s why you hate yourself and I get it, I really do, because you regret things so much it hurts in your stomach and you think about all these situations you would now know how to handle better and you are about to go insane because you can’t change it anymore and every single time you realise that it hits harder than before. Believe me, I get it, but we are not the same. And just like me you need to accept it, you need to sit down and say to yourself all these horrible things you did and then admit to yourself that you forgive. Because hating yourself doesn’t help anyone, not you, not the victims, not even those who hate you. All it does is kill you, slowly and painfully and ugly. And you regret, I know you do, I know you cry and I know your nightmares and I know you will never be whole again but that’s okay, this war has destroyed too many lifes and I wont let yours be one of them. Because I know that these last years have changed me, but they have changed you so much more. You are not who you were, Draco and you deserve to be treated accordingly.“

„That’s exactly what I just said“

„No it fucking isn’t, Draco. I want to catch this man to start living, to put this chapter behind me and show to myself that I still have some power. I’m not doing this for them, society, what ever, I want to do it so I know I did everything, everything in my power to fight him“.

He just stares at me.

„I don’t see the difference“, he says lastly: „Nothing will change for you if Greyback is in jail, not really“, he shakes his head: „You’ll still be what you are and everyone will still treat you as they do“

„But I, Draco, I will treat myself differently“, I say and after a long silence, slowly, I see something bloom up in his eyes. Understanding.

„So what do you say?“, I ask him again.

He hesitates: „I’m not sure“, he clears his throat, then lets out a frustrated groan directed towards himself.

„I just“, he looks at me intently: „I just wished I had someone to punish, too, but I only have myself“.

I nod: „I know, Draco“, because I really do.

It’s easy for me, in some way, having logic on my side, the law. Back then, I was the good one, Greyback was the bad one, clear as glas. But Draco was the bad one. He doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself, at least from a legal standpoint. I know differently, of course, I know all too well how parents shape a child, how unyielding the grip is they have on you. So who is there to punish to find justice if not himself?

„But maybe by catching him, you’ll finally feel like you’ve done everything in your power“.

He interrupts me: „I didn’t though. All these years“, he hiccups slightly: „All these years. I could have done so much more, so much sooner“.

„No you couldn’t“, I say, my voice stern and unwavering: „Because if you could have, you would have“, I nod at him: „You were brainwashed from the crib, brought up in a toxic cult with the only people you ever knew, you had no idea how to do anything without it. You were abused and neglected and you were threatened and in mortal danger for the better of three years and you have been punished“, I put a hand on his shoulder: „Let that be enough“.

„I don’t know if I can“, he whispers.

„Just try for now“, I say: „But surely you know that it’s enough for me and that’s a start isn’t it?“

He chuckles and sniffles.

„Alright“, he says, coughing once and shakes his head like a dog trying to get water off its fur: „Let’s catch this bastard, then“.


	9. Chapter 9

Getting a week off work isn’t hard, but Garrick asks a lot of questions that I just can’t answer. When I turn around to pack his eyes are full of worry and dissatisfaction but he leaves me to it.

Draco is back at the Manor to talk to his parents, apparently he’ll tell them we are taking a week long trip through the country, and pack his things.

We decided to meet back at the train station at seven o’clock in the evening to take the train to Dublin and ride through the night. The trip will take about seven hours one way.

Draco is already there when I arrive, hands holding two cups of steaming hot coffee, an elegant leather suitcase next to his feet on the ground.

“I brought coffee”, Draco greets me.

“You’re an angel”, I sigh at him and take a cup with milk overflowing.

“I thought we might need it”, Draco shrugs and takes a sip from his own cup: “It’s going to be a rough ride”.

“I was hoping we could get some sleep on the train”, I tell him.

“I’m not sure if that’s going to work”, Draco rises an eyebrow: “But then again I am unfamiliar with muggle trains so you probably know better”.

“Did you just admit that you don’t know something?”, I ask in mock astonishment: “What a remarkable day it is”.

“Haha”, Draco deadpans and picks up his suitcase.

I feel very much underdressed next to him. He is in a suit again, of course, an expensive one, with a vest an a bowtie and a pocketwatch whereas I am wearing my simple ripped jeans, my Doc Martens (they still give me blisters) and a simple black hoodie.

“Can’t you dress casual for once in your life?”, I ask him indignantly.

“This is casual”, he replies, looking down at himself: “I’m wearing my traveling suit”.

I roll my eyes and walk towards our platform. The train is already there and people are tricking inside casually.

“I hope we get a place to sit”, I say, I am worried. My real worry is that maybe the two of us couldn’t sit together, that would be a nightmare.

“Let’s see then”, he says confidently: “If worse comes to worst a little spell will vacate us some seats without a problem”.

I snicker: “Of course you would hex people away”.

“I’d just get them a little confused”, Draco defends himself while walking up the steps to the train: “They’ll simply stand up and search for a nicer seat”.

“That’s highly unethical”, I remind him but I can’t help but grin.

He winks at me and my heart stutters a little.

The train is not too crowded and we find a good seat next to each other after about five minutes of searching. We put our luggage on two empty seats next to us and settle down. As soon as my butt touches the seat the train rumbles to life beneath my cheeks and starts moving.

“Alright”, Draco kneeds his palms: “What’s our strategy?”.

“I have no idea”, I admit: “But we have over seven hours to figure it out”.

After five hours of endless debating and changing the plan our plan is as follows: We arrive in Dublin already in character. We are a young couple on their long awaited honeymoon, that means for Draco to pretend he is in love with me and for me it means not hiding my infatuation as much anymore, for me it will be easy.

We go looking for a nice pension or hotel in Fairview because as far as I know that is where the magic suburb of Dublin is hidden. We spend our first day trying to find the entrance to the magical world and once we have found that out we will start subtly asking around for Greyback, someone must have seen him, he must live somewhere, eat somewhere, go shopping somewhere. Maybe he has a doctor, maybe a potions master to make his wolfsbane, if he even drinks it.

He has left a trace, I’m sure of it, all we need to do is find it. 

I try not to think about the sheer number of people living in the city. We will find him.

We fall asleep at around eleven at night and only wake up again when the conductors voice announces our arrival in Dublin.

***

It is early in the morning and the train station is not too busy, we get a cap immediately and tell the driver where we want to go. We pass by several homeless people on the way and I remember how lucky I really am.

“I’m so tired”, Draco mumbles, his head against the window.

“We’ll sleep soon, but we have to get up early tomorrow”, I remind him.

“Today”, he corrects me.

“You know what I mean”, I roll my eyes.

“You’re looking for a hotel?”, the driver asks politely.

“Yes”, I say and sigh: “Do you know one?”.

“Sure”, she says and shrugs: “I can take you there, it is a bit expensive though”.

“That isn’t an issue”, Draco says immediately.

“Alright”, the driver days: “Give me five minutes”.

The drive is quiet and pleasant, Draco and me admire the view out of the windows, neither of us have been to Dublin before. It is beautiful but sad, the big houses look worn out and tired, I am excited t see how the people here look.

“There we are”, the driver says after a couple of minutes: “That’ll be twentyseven pounds”.

Draco hands her the money and gets out of the car.

We are standing in front of a huge white building with big windows and countless balconies. It looks well kept and majestic. There is a big sign over a two winged door reading: The Fairview.  
The driver helps us with our bags and drives off, leaving us in front of the building.

The inside is lush with flowers and gold and it looks like it sprung directly out of a magazine for architecture. There is a lone staff member behind the reception, looking tired. As soon as he sees us he switches on a bright smile.

“Good morning”, he says: “Welcome to the Fairview, how can I help you?”.

“Good morning”, we mumble and let our bags plummet to the ground.

“We are in nee of a room”, Draco says then, trying hard to sound remotely awake.

“Of course”, the man nods: “Any special preferences?”.

“We just got married”, I say with a bright smile: “We’d like a room with a great view please”.

“Well congratulations”, the man says warmly: “How about our honeymoon suite? It’s very nice and you’d have the top floor to yourselves?”.

“That sounds delightful”, Draco nods.

“Isn’t that a bit expensive?”, I ask Draco silently. Then I suddenly add a: “Honey”.

“Nothing is too expensive for you, darling”, he says so smoothly I almost blush.

I don’t trust my voice so I just nod.

“The honeymoon suite it is”, the man says, a broad smile directed at us while he types something in a huge computer.

“I’ll need some ID and a credit card”, he says apologetically. 

I want to get my credit card but Draco is faster.

“Where did you get this?”, I whisper to him.

“Got it right before we met today”, he mumbles back: “Thought it might come in handy”.

“Very smart”, I say, impressed.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy”, the man says: “Follow me to your room”.

He rings a small bell and immediately a young man in uniform appears to take our bags.

“You travel lightly”, he says, delighted.

We take the elevator to the fifth floor using a special key to unlock that floor.

“The floor is yours”, the man from behind the reception says: “Let me give you a small tour”.

The elevator doors open to a delicious scent of wood and lemons and flowers and the sight of warm wooden floor and white marble countertops. A kitchen.

“This is the kitchen”, the man explains: “You are welcome to use it or order from our chef”.

We walk further into the room.

“The first bathroom is through this door”, he gestures towards a closed door: “The second is right down the hall”.

We walk along the hallway: “This is the master bedroom”.

I look around, it looks beautiful and smells like lavender and mint, the bed is huge and high, there are flowers on a small table next to it.

Next there is the living room with meters of fully stocked bookshelves and a grand piano. My heart flutters, I love playing piano, I just couldn’t afford one for my home.

The two men say their goodbyes, telling us to just call on them through the intercom if we needed anything.

“This is nice”, says Draco, unimpressed.

“The hell?”, I ask him, laughing: “This is amazing”.

Draco just shrugs: “Sleep?”.

I had set my alarm to half past eight and when it rings I groan, unamused.

“Get rid of that noise”, Draco growls: “Or, by Merlin, I will transform it into a pillow to smother you with”.

I chuckle.

This time it was Draco who had wandered during the night, his arm lays firmly on my stomach, leg entangled in mine. I can feel his breath against my cheek.

I turn off the alarm and detangle myself from him to go to the bathroom.

When I reemerge, freshly showered and dressed for the day I find Draco in at the kitchen counter drinking a cup of coffee.

“Made one for me too?”, I ask hopefully.

“Of course”, he mumbles and slides a cup in front of me.

“Thank you”, I say and take a sip.

“So what’s the agenda for today?”, Draco asks again, even though we planned it all on the train.

I sigh: “Find the magical suburb is first”, I tell him: “Then go ask around”.

“But before that”, Draco asks: “Breakfast?”.

“Alright”, I sigh: “But we need to be quick”.

We order breakfast directly from the chef. Croissants, smoked salmon, scrambled eggs with herbs.

It smells delicious and tastes even better and even though I want to get going I eat slowly to savour it all.

Once we are full to the brim Draco goes and takes a quick shower and puts on a fresh suit, dark green this time, it looks fantastic.

“Ready to go?”, he asks me and I nod silently.

It’s raining when we step out of the door, but it is warm at the same time, so I don’t mind. Of course neither of us brought an umbrella, so the first thing we do is buy two from a street seller.

“Where do we start?”, Draco asks me. He matched the umbrella to his suit, of course he did.

“Let’s buy a tourist guide”, I suggest and he nods.

The bookstore is cozy and warm and we find a whole tourist section in the front. I scan the shelves eagerly, waiting for something to jump out at me. Then, suddenly, there it is: The Mysteries of Dublin – A city full of magic.

I take it from the shelf and skim through it, it’s still new, published a few months ago so it should be accurate. I decide to buy it. I go over to Draco and show him my treasure.

“None of this is real magic”, he insists with a raised eyebrow.

“Some as well might”, I insist: “The muggles aren’t stupid you know?”.

“Wizards hide their magic so well”, Draco says doubtfully: “Muggles would never notice it”.

“It’s worth a shot”, I say, pride a little hurt: “Or do you have a better idea?”.

Of course he doesn’t. We pay for the book and walk back onto the street.

“Let’s get a coffee and decide what is worth checking out”, I suggest and Draco nods.

Finding a nice café only takes a few minutes.

I order a coup of hot chocolate and Draco gets an Earl Grey, while we wait for our drinks I take out the book and start to look at the index.

“Okay”, I say: “There might be something here”, I continue to read.

“What is it?”, Draco asks.

I don’t answer, instead finishing the index and nodding to myself.

“Three of these sound interesting”, I explain to him and look up: “One of them in particular but I think we should check out all three just to be sure”.

“What is it?”, Draco says again, louder this time”.

“The first and most interesting one is in Fairview park”, I finally explain: “The so called portal alleé. For centuries there are eye witnesses claiming they’ve seen people vanish and appear out of thin air between two old trees at the side of the forest”, I look into Dracos eyes.

He nods: “That does sound interesting”, he agrees: “What about the other two?”.

“There is an allegedly haunted building not far from here”, I say: “It’s barred from the public because over the years there have been mysterious animal attacks”, I pause: “If that doesn’t scream werewolf I don’t know what does”.

Draco nods: “Definitely worth checking out”, he admits.

“And here’s the last one”, I continue: “But it doesn’t sound very promising”, I hesitate but Draco just keeps looking at me.

“Alright”, I sigh: “But this one is a bit out of the way”, I say: “There was this nun sometime during the 16th century who got accused of being a witch and was burned at the stake”, I shudder: “Apparently she was the real deal and simply disapparated. It is believed that she cursed the people and spot involved. Centuries later they built a well at that very spot, it is believed to be a gate to hell itself, people that fall in apparently don’t get back out, not even dead”.

“Interesting”, Draco nods: “Very interesting”.

“It is?”, I ask, relieved.

“Of course”, he says: “Maybe not what we’re looking for but definitely a site worth visiting”.

“It’s not in Fairview though”, I ponder: “And I’m sure I've heard that the magical suburb is in Fairview”.

“Maybe it was relocated during the last century?”, Draco muses: “Maybe the well had become too obvious”.

“Maybe”, I say.

A pretty young waitress with flaming red har brings us our drinks and we are silent. Draco smiles at her a little too brightly for my liking and she blushes furiously.

“We should go there last”, he says: “Start in fairview, your sources are legit”.

I smile at him: “My sources are nothing but chitter on the street”.

“Chitter tends to be correct, in my experience”, he shakes his head: “I say we start at the haunted house, what do you think?”.

I nod and swallow my hot chocolate: “Yes, you’re right”, I say: “We finish our drinks and then we go there, it’s only a twenty minute walk, I think”.

Draco is staring at me. At my mouth in particular.

“You’ve got something”, he trails off.

“Where?”, I ask, hysterical.

“Your mouth”, he whispers and I wipe furiously at the corners of my mouth.

“No”, he shakes his head: “It’s…Just let me”, and before I can do anything he leans over the table with his outstretched hand. I feel his thumb stroke along my upper lip, more slowly than it needs to, more careful than necessary. Then suddenly he’s gone again, licking his thumb: “frothy milk”, he explains.

I need to blink probably, my eyes are stinging, vision blurry, but I can’t look away from him from the tip of his thumb. I long for it back, I don’t need much, just the tip of his thumb would satisfy me for hours. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get through this trip.


	10. Chapter 10

The walk to the haunted house is nice, along the park and with lots of families walking by, laughing and joking, chasing after small children on even smaller bikes.  
I’m so excited, I struggle to walk at a reasonable pace until Draco takes my hand, keeping me by his side with a force field so strong I can’t remember ever not feeling it.

“We’re really selling that newlywed crap”, I laugh shakily because I need to say something to alleviate the tension inside me.

Draco laughs: “Yes, I’ve been trained all my life to be a perfect husband, don’t you forget that”.

“It shows”, I say, looking down at our intertwined fingers, all of them so pale I can’t distinguish which fingers are his and which are mine.

“I think that’s it”, Draco says after some time and stops walking.

I look up and into an open mouth of a window swallowing all the light. It’s a big house, bare brick walls, there is a hole in the foundation here and there, the garden around it is wild and unkept, a lonely swingset bobbing in the wind.

“I think you’re right”, I say when I see the sign:   
No trespassing – Property of the City of Dublin – Caution: Mortal Danger.

I take in a shaky breath and look sideways at Draco, he’s looking at me.

“You ready?”, he asks quietly and squeezes my hand.

“I think so”, I nod and take out my wand.

Draco squeezes my hand a last time and lets go to take out his own wand.

There is Grafitti at the front door:  
Death awates   
Jordan was here   
All monsters are human

I smile at the last one. If only they knew.

“Homenum Revelio”, I whisper. Nothing happens. But would it register a werewolf? I’m not sure.

Carefully we open the door and step inside. It is dusty and it smells like dead moths and mould, the floorboards creack as we make our way through the lobby.

The house is big, bigger than any home I have ever been to, there is a big stairwell leading up from the lobby to the second floor with two doors left and right from it leading into the rest of the ground floor.

“Where to first?”, Draco asks.

“You take upstairs”, I tell him: “I’ll look down here”.

“We should stay together”, Draco says and he’s right.

“He’s not here”, I say: “I’m sure of it”.

“How do you know?”, Draco asks, disappointment in his voice.

“I don’t know”, I admit: “I just feel it”.

“Maybe because he’s the one that turned you?”, Draco muses.

“Probably”, I shudder: “I mean, technically I’m his pack”.

“Only in theory”, Draco insists and I smile at him gratefully.

“Let’s still look around a little”, I say and Draco nods: “You go upstairs”.

We separate and I walk through the door into an enormous empty room, there is something in the middle, I can’t quite make it out in the darkness so I walk towards it.  
It’s a nest. That’s the only way I can describe it. Blankets and Jackets, filthy and stiff and stinking. I see tufts of dark brown fur, I see scratch marks on the ground, torn into the wood with sharp, long claws. This is where he lived. I’m sure he won’t come back though, I let out a frustrated groan.

“Freeze”, a voice shouts from behind me and whirl around.

“Expelliarmus”, I yell while spinning and I hear the clanking of a wand falling to my feet.

“What the hell?”, the voice yells.

“Don’t move”, I yell back. I can hear thundering footsteps on the stairs. Draco, alarmed by the noise.

“Lumos”, I whisper and the light turns on. I point the stream of light into the general direction of the voice and my heart sips a beat.

“Potter?”, Draco says from the doorway, completely surprised.

“Malfoy?”, Harry Potter blurts out: “What are you doing here?”.

“The same as you, I presume”, Draco says, waking over with a smile on his face. He reaches out his hand and Harry Potter shakes it reluctantly.

“Looking for Fenrir Greyback?”, he asks sceptically.

“Precisely”, Draco says: “Let me introduce my companion”.

“Hi”, I say: “I’m Lilith”, then I take his wand from the floor and hand it back to him.

“Nice work disarming me”, Potter grins: “Not a lot of people can do that”.

I grin at him: “Thanks. Can I call you Harry?”.

“Please do”, Harry says: “I’ve been trying to get your friend to do just that but old habits die hard, I guess”.

Draco laughs apologetically.: “Some day I’ll manage, I promise”.

“You always say that”, Harry chuckles.

I look between them, this is remarkably weird.

“Listen”, Harry says, serious again: “He’s not here, hasn’t been for weeks, I check every day”.

“We figured as much”, I say.

“How did you even know this was his hide out?”, Harry asks.

“Proper detective work”, Draco says proudly.

“When I think about how long it took the department to find it”, Harry shakes his head: “Very good work”.

“Thanks”, I say again: “Do you have any new leads?”.

“No”, Harry admits: “And if I did I wouldn’t tell you”.

“Why not?”, I ask him.

“You’re civilian and Greyback is dangerous”, Harry explains the obvious.

“Oh believe me”, I say: “I know”.

“What do you mean?”, he asks.

“We’ve met”, I say mysteriously: “It didn’t end too well for me”.

“Oh”, Harry whispers: “Lilith? I think I read about you in the papers”.

“That’s me”, I admit, scared of his reaction.

“Well, I’m sorry that happened to you”, he says and he seems earnest.

I smile at him: “Thank you”.

“How did you survive?”, Harry asks: “Greyback seldom leaves survivors”.

I look at Draco, a silent question on my face. He nods ever so slightly and I nod back at him.

“Draco saved my life”, I tell Harry and he looks over at Draco in astonishment.

“He almost killed Greyback and then he got help, even though I didn’t want any”, I go on.

“How come you’ve never told that to anybody? Not even at your trial?”, Harry asks: “That could have gotten you probation”, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I was ashamed”, Draco says and I’m also hearing his explanation for the first time: “She wouldn’t even have been there if it wasn’t for saving my life just seconds before”, he shakes his head: “And then I did the most cruel thing I could have done”, he breathes in shakily: “I ran for help even though she begged me to let her die”.

“You did the right thing”, Harry insists: “Did everything to save her life”.

Draco stays silent, conflicting feelings on his face.

“He’s right”, I say eventually: “It was the right thing to do”.

“Thank you”, Draco says: “You can’t imagine how badly I needed to hear that”.

I smile at him sadly.

After a while Harry clears his throat awkwardly: “Listen guys”, he says: “You can’t be here. I should arrest you but I won’t if you promise to stay out of this”.

“We can’t promise that”, Draco says immediately: “You of all people should be able to understand that”.

“Of course I understand”, Harry sighs, looking at me: “But I can’t allow it, it’s too dangerous and you’ve had no proper training”.

“I disarmed you without proper training”, I remind him and I can see the corners of his mouth twitching with a suppressed grin.

Harry sighs: “Alright”, he shakes his head, tired: “You do what you want under one condition: You call me the moment you locate him and I give you backup with my team”.

“Deal”, I say immediately, that sounds like a great deal.

Harry gives me his number and I save it in my cell phone.

“Alright”, Harry says: “I need to get back before someone comes looking for me”.

“One last thing”, Draco interrupts: “Do you know where the entrance to the magical subway is?”.

“Sure”, Harry shrugs: “It’s in Fairview park just between two trees, you should easily find it”.

“We were right”, I say triumphantly: “You should know that it attracts quite the attention with the muggles”.

“So I’ve heard”, Harry sighs: “The ministry is working on relocating it next year but they have not come up with a good solution yet”.

I nod.

“See you later”, Harry reaches out his hand: “How about some drinks when we’ve caught this guy?”.

“Definitely”, Draco say and shakes Harrys hand, then so do I.


	11. Chapter 11

We apparate to Fairview park, its early afternoon and the rain has stopped so there are a lot of people in the park, mostly families with small children and people walking their dogs.  
We walk along the walkway.

“Draco”, I ask carefully: “Can I ask you a personal question?”.

“Mhm”, Draco hums, eyes closed, face towards the sun, taking a sip of water.

“Do you have a crush on Harry Potter?”, I ask fast before the courage leaves me.

The reaction is almost comically, water sprays out of his mouth, he’s coughing violently, face red. Once he’s calmed down he looks at me, bewilderment in his eyes.

“What gave you that idea?”, he asks.

“I don’t know”, I admit: “I just got this feeling. And you didn’t even insult him once”.

Draco chuckles: “I like him, I really do”, he says and something inside me drops.

“But not like that”, he says then and I could strangle him for not leading with that.

“Are you sure?”, I ask him.

“Yes”, he says definitely: “I know what it feels like to have a crush on Harry Potter”.

I gasp: “So I was right”, I say triumphantly: “I was just wrong about the timing”.

Draco grins at me: “You were”.

“How on earth did that happen?”, I ask him as we’re walking along.

“I don’t really know”, Draco admits: “I’ve always been fascinated by him, even before we went to school together, all those stories I heard, you don’t understand that, you grew up a muggle but I grew up with the magical tale of Harry Potter and how he defeated Voldemort”, he sighs: “And then he didn’t want to be my friend because I was being a dick and I became obsessed with him, watching him, listening in on his conversations, collection newspaper scraps”, he laughs: “I was proper crazy those years. But I only knew I had a crush in my third year when Black allegedly was after him and I was so unbelievably worried I couldn’t sleep or eat”.

“When did it stop?”, I ask him.

“Very slowly”, he admits: “Some time during my trial I think and afterwards when I was in prison I came to terms with him, how much I owe him, how wrong I had behaved, all those things”.

“So”, I start, too afraid to ask: “Are you gay, then?”.

Draco thinks about it for a while: “No”, he says: “I don’t think so”. I can breathe again.

Slowly the park had gotten emptier around us and now there is no one in sight. I look around: “There it is”, I say and point at two very old looking trees on the side of the road: “That’s it”.

Draco nods: “Let’s go then”.

I step through the invisible barrier first and gasp. I stand in the middle of a heavily crowded street in urban Dublin. Draco appears behind me and takes my hand: “Remember”, he says: “We’re on our honeymoon, honey”.

“Yes, babe”, I say and grin at him: “Now let’s get to the seediest bar we can find”.

It takes a few hours of walking around (only sometimes getting distracted by the stores by our sides) to find the one alley that seems entirely too dark and creepy. We head in as the sun sets and walk forward.

“Take out your contacts”, Draco says: “I think you’re safe here”.

I do as I’m told, but keep them in their container to plop them back in once we’re outside again.

The people that pass us seem okay with me being here, they don’t smile at me, too distracted, but they acknowledge me through simple nods in my direction.

After half an hour I decide it is time to ask someone for directions.

“Excuse me”, I interrupt the thought of the next person walking by, a middleaged witch with a stuffed raven on her shoulder: “We’re looking for a bar to get a drink, do you know one?”.

She looks into my eyes surprised: “There’s The Pack, it’s especially for your kind”, she says: “Just five more minutes in this direction”.

“Thank you”, I say and she grunts and keeps walking.

“That might be a good place to start”, Draco says and we walk on.

It doesn’t take long until we see The Pack in the distance. It looks horrible, old and creepy.

I swallow and open the door.

“Evening”, the bartender greets us gruffly.

“Evening”, Draco and I say in unison.

“Booth or bar?”, I ask Draco.

“Bar”, he says: “Easier to talk to people”.

We sit down at the bar and both order two shots of firewhiskey.

The bar isn’t crowded, only a few other customers sit around alone, drinking from opaque glasses. Hard Rock is blaring from the speakers.

“I’ve never seen you here before”, the bartender says suspiciously: “What brings you here?”.

I swallow and look at Draco. He wants to say something but the bartender interrupts him: “I was talking to your friend, human, there is no space for you here”.

I swallow again, but put on a smile: “This is my husband”, I explain: “We are on our honeymoon and I’ve heard so much about your bar, I wanted to see the place where I would be welcome”.

“Why’d you bring him?”, the bartender asks and points at Draco: “Humans are not welcome here”.

“Maybe you could make an exception?”, I ask sweetly: “We do everything together, we’re just so”, I hesitate: “In love, you know”.

And to my great surprise the bartender smiles a little: “Alright”, he says: “I was in love once too”.

“Thank you”, I smile at him: “I’m Lilith”.

“I’m Mark”, the bartender says: “And who are you?”.

Draco hesitates: “Draco”, he croaks: “My name is Draco”.

“Alright”, Mark says: “Good on you for marrying this one”, he points at me: “Not many would marry a werewolf”.

“You can’t choose who you love”, Draco says quietly without looking at me. I feel something warm spread inside my chest. It sounded so real, so earnest.

“Damn right”, Mark says and gives each of us a beer on the house as a “Wedding present”.

I kinda like Mark I think, he’S a bit unpolished maybe, his long beard a little unhygienic and his yellow eyes are outright terrifying, in a familiar kind of way, but he seems like a good guy that was hardened by years of suffering.

“So this is your bar?”, I ask after downing the first shot of firewhiskey.

“Yup”, Mark says, polishing a glas: “Opened it six years ago”.

“How is it going?”, Draco asks: “There ought to be only few werewolfs in the area”.

“You’d be surprised”, Mark says: “On a good night we have over thirty patrons in here”.

“Thirty?”, I ask in shock: “And they all get along?”.

“There are some territorial issues now and again, fighting packs, that kind of stuff but mostly it’s peaceful”.

“Why did you open your bar in this part of town, though?”, Draco asks and both Mark and me have to laugh.

“What do you think boy?”, Mark asks: “Nobody would rent to me, not with my idea”.

Draco nods, fury in his eyes: “Of course”.

“So”, Mark changes the subject: “How did you guys meet?”.

Draco and I exchange a glance.

“In school”, I say then: “He was two years older than me”.

“Hogwarts?”, Mark asks.

“Exactly” Draco nods.

“And together ever since?”

“Not exactly, no”, I admit: “I couldn’t stand him back then”, I chuckle: “We only reunited recently and it kind of bloomed from there”.

Mark nods, smiling: “So do you have a pack back home?”.

And suddenly I have an idea, I clear my throat: “Actually that’s why I’m here”, I say and Mark raises his eyebrows.

“You want to find a pack in Dublin?”, Mark asks.

“Not exactly”, I say: “I have an Alpha. I just can’t get a hold of him, haven’t been able to for a few months and I was hoping he had come by?”.

“In Dublin?”, Mark asks.

“Last I heard he was here”, I explain.

“What’s he look like?”

I hesitate, then I take out the wanted poster I cut out of the prophet.

Mark takes in a sharp breath: “Greyback?”, he asks.

“Yes”, I admit: “I really want to find him”.

“He’s been here a few times”, Mark says: “Can’t stand him, kicked him out as soon as I recognised him”.

“Do you know when he was here last?”, Draco asks.

“A week ago”, Mark says: “Tried to sneak in last Friday around midnight”.

“Do you, by any chance, know where he is now?”, I ask, nerves stretched out.

“Nah”, Mark sounds apologetical: “No idea”.

“Damn it”, I say under my breath and put Greybacks picture back into my bag.

“But I know someone that might”, Mark says.

“That’s great”, I yelp: “Who is it?”.

“I don’t know her name”, Mark admits: “She comes in every night around half past eleven and I’ve seen her around Greyback a few times”.

“Then we’ll just wait for her”, Draco says enthusiastically.

“As long as you buy a drink every hour I don’t care if you move in”, Mark says.

The bar only starts getting crowded around half past ten and by that time Draco and I are already proper tipsy since Mark only serves alcohol.

I am just explaining Draco the concept of the seat belt when Mark comes over.

“That’s her”, he says silently: “In the red leather jacket”.

I look around and there she is, she looks stunning, tall, lean and muscled with fierce red eyes. An Alpha.

“How do you want to do this?”, Draco asks.

“No idea”, I admit.

I think about it: “Buy a round for the bar”, I whisper to him: “She looks like someone who would like that”.

Draco shrugs and tells Mark.

Mark immediately rings a huge bell over the bar: “Attention everyone”, he yells: “One round on the gentleman in green and his fresh new wife”.

The bar cheers and suddenly we’re in the middle of a crowd of werewolfs congratulating us on our fake marriage.

I say a lot of thank yous and how are yous. They are wary of Draco, uneasy in the company of a human but they seem to get over themselves pretty quickly.

She’s the last to come over and she doesn’t look friendly, she looks pissed off.

“Thanks for the beer”, she says to me, decidedly only to me: “And congratulations on the wedding”.

“Thank you”, I say and we clink our glasses of beer together: “I love your jacket”.

“Oh”, she says, almost smiling: “Thank you, it’s really old”.

“It doesn’t look old at all”, I say, thankful that Draco has turned away, watching Mark filling glasses with beer, he can’t help me here.

“Are you here with you pack?”, I ask her.

“Yes”, she says now definitely smiling: “They’re right over there”, she points toward to booths in the back.

“Wow”, I say: “That’s a lot of people”.

“Yeah”, she says proudly: “Listen”, she says: “Want to sit with us for a drink?”.

I blink at her: “Sure”, I say and nod enthusiastically.

“Great”, she says: “I’m Annalee, by the way”.

“Nice to meet you”, I say: “I’m Lilith”.

She walks back towards her pack and I turn to Draco, he’s looking at me now, worry inside his eyes: “Be careful”, he says.

“I will”, I say and because we’re supposed to be in love I give him a peck on the cheek.


	12. Chapter 12

“Hey everyone”, Annalee says: “This is Lilith”.

I get greeted with big smiles and a couple of handshakes. Two big men scoot over so I have a place to sit.

“Hey there”, I say: “How are you doing?”.

“You got married to a human”, a man named Marcus says: “How the hell did that happen?”.

I laugh: “We went to school together and couldn’t stand each other, honestly but then, after I was bitten”, but I can’t explain any further, audible gasps travel through the group.

“You didn’t tell me you were bitten”, Annalee says, disgusted.

“I didn’t know it was important, I’m sorry”, I say, afraid I’ve lost my chance with this group: “Weren’t you bitten too though?”.

Growls from all sides.

“Hell no”, Annalee say angrily: “We were all born this way”.

“Is that better?”, I ask shyly.

“Being bitten is a sign of weakness”, another woman explains to me: “And it means that you were one of Them once”.

“Oh”, I say, feeling embarrassment and shame flooding over me. Were they right? Had I been weak? Probably. But I had never been one of Them, I never resented werewolfs until I became one.

There is an awkward silence until Annalee sighs: “Don’t worry about it”, she says: “You bought us drinks, it’s only right you drink it with us”.

I don’t like her very much but I smile at her and nod: “Thanks”.

“So how long have you been on honeymoon now?”, a young man with hazel eyes asks me.

“It’s been two weeks now”, I say and smile.

“Don’t you miss your pack?”, he asks me, bewildered.

Perfect. Exactly the segue way I needed.

“Actually”, I say: “I don’t really have a pack”.

Again they all gasp: “How did you survive without a pack?”, the man asks then.

“I’ve been looking for my alpha for quite some time”, I explain: “Last I heard he was in Dublin, that’s why I wanted to come here”.

“The one who bit you?”, Annalee asks.

I nod: “His name is Fenrir”, I say, staking everything on one card.

They all exchange knowing looks, glancing at Annalee with curiosity.

She nods: “Why do you want to find him?”.

“I want a pack”, I say: “I yearn for it, especially on the full moon, I need an Alpha”.

“But he bit you”, it’s not a question.

“If he hadn’t I wouldn’t have married Draco, I wouldn’t have the job I love or the friends I cherish”, I swallow: “He did me a favour”.

Annalee nods: “Alright”, she says then, weighing her words: “What if I could tell you something to point you in the right direction?”.

“That would be amazing”, I say: “I didn’t know you knew him”.

“He was our Alpha before he left”, she explains: “Now I am”.

“Why did he leave?”, I ask.

“He never stays long”, Annalee says, a certain sadness in her eyes: “It was his time”.

“And where is he now?”, I ask.

“He’s working the morning shift at the docks”, Annalee says and downs her drink: “Drink’s over”, she says and looks at me intently.

“Oh”, I say: “Okay”, I smile at everyone and wave my goodbye, then I stand up and go back to Draco.

“So?”, he whispers as soon as I sit down beside him.

“I know where he is”, I whisper back: “Draco, I know where he is”.

“That’s amazing”, Draco yells loudly, clapping a hand over his mouth.

I laugh: “Yes honey”, I say almost as loudly.

“So where is he?”, Draco asks as soon as the other patrons ignore us again.

“He works down at the docks”, I say: “That is something. We can find him”.

“Hell yes we can”, Draco says and downs his drink.

We stay for another hour as not to arouse suspicion and talk loudly about our next honeymoon destinations, we leave the bar at half past midnight. The way back to our hotel takes a long time until we hail a cab and get driven the last ten minutes, Draco almost falling asleep on the ride.

Once we are back inside our suite I immediately change into something more comfortable, sweatpants and a black hoodie and sit down on the couch.

I don’t know where Draco is, presumably in the second bathroom getting ready for bed.

But I’m not tired.

“What are you doing?”, Draco asks from the doorway, already in his pyjamas.

“I’m not tired”, I say: “You go to bed”.

“Lilith”, he says and sits down beside me: “It’s one o’clock in the morning, you need your sleep”.

“I’ll fall asleep eventually”, I promise: “It just won’t happen right now”.

“Are you okay?”, Draco asks quietly.

“I don’t know”, I admit.

“What happened?”, he asks.

“Draco”, I say and hesitate, what if he laughs at me?

“Yes”, Draco says simply.

“Do you think I’m weak?”, I ask and don’t look at him.

He is silent for a long time and I think he won’t answer when he starts to speak: “No”, he says: “I don’t think you’re weak. In fact you’re the strongest person I have ever met, stronger even than my mother and that says something. You have been fighting for years, Lilith and you never gave up, you always do your best, you still think about other people and no matter what you do, you do it with all your heart and all your soul. If that means you’re weak then I’d hope more people were”.

“You mean that?”, I ask.

Draco nods: “Every word”, he hesitates: “What makes you ever think you could be weak?”.

“Something that pack said”, I explain: “Being bitten not born”.

Draco shakes his head: “They don’t know you. They don’t know how much you fought, how much you’ve struggled”.

“I’m sure they struggled as well”, I insist.

“Sure they did”, Draco says: “And you see what became of them. You’re strong Lilith, because you still love and you’re still you”.

I don’t know what to say to that so I just nod, slowly.

“Come here”, Draco says and suddenly I’m engulfed in his arms, nose pressed against his shoulder. I inhale his scent and suddenly there are tears in my eyes. I can’t stop the first sob from escaping my mouth and once the first one is out of the way the others follow.

I don’t know how long we sat there, Draco holding me while I cried. He was so unbearably far away even though he was touching me. And it only made me cry harder.

I wake up on the couch, Draco on top of me, his head on my stomach, feet dangling over the floor where the couch isn’t long enough.

I groan, my head hurts, eyes burning and I’m so thirsty.

“Draco”, I say and pet his curls: “It’s time to wake up”.

Draco grunts and buries his face deeper inside my stomach, I giggle because it tickles. I can hear Draco huff a laugh, then he sits up: “Morning”.

“Morning”, I smile.

“What time is it?”, he asks.

I risk a look at my cell phone: “It’s a quarter past eleven”.

“Oh damn”, he groans: “We missed the morning shift at the docks”.

“That was to be expected”, I say: “Let’s go to bed super early tonight and get there around three in the morning”.

Draco groans: “That sounds horrible. Shouldn’t he be the one to get punished”.

I laugh and untangle myself from him: “I’ll order us some breakfast”.

We start the day lazily, eating breakfast on the couch, watching trash TV. Draco keeps glancing over at me with that worried look in his eyes so I laugh extra loud to show him I’m okay now.  
We go to the docks anyway, just to make us familiar with it, the area is huge and my enthusiasm at the new lead is dwindling.

When we get back to the hotel we are both dissatisfied with how the day went and go to bed at eight.


	13. Chapter 13

We get to the docks at half past three the next morning and the darkness is buzzing with life.

I show my picture around to everyone who’ll look but no one seems to have seen Greyback before, but then again there could be over 500 workers working here in the different shifts. We decide to try again tomorrow at a different part of the docks and get some late lunch when the last workers desert the field.

It is almost four when we find a nice restaurant that seems quiet enough for us. We did think about venturing into wizard Dublin but decided against it, the less contact we have to the wizarding world the better.

I order the sea bass and Draco gets a salmon and because we’re basically on vacation we both order a glass of dry wine with it.

“I bet the salmon you make is still better”, Draco says with a look at the prices.

I laugh: “And you only have to buy me a whole new wardrobe for a taste”.

Now it’s Draco who laughs: “You’re right, you’re an expensive friend to keep”.

“I told you I don’t need any of that”, I defend myself: “You insisted, remember?”.

“Nah”, he says: “I remember you basically blackmailing me into buying you stuff”, he chuckles.

I snort not very ladylike and take a sip of wine: “I haven’t been out to dinner in a very long time”.

“So have I”, Draco says: “Not since before prison”.

“I’ve been to dinner at some dates”, I say: “But the last one was over a year ago”.

“Dates?”, Draco asks, bewildered.

I laugh: “Yes, Draco, dates”.

“I didn’t know you dated”, Draco says, a weird tone in his voice.

“Only Muggles”, I say: “No wizard would have wanted to go on a date with me”.

Dracos fists are clenched and I wonder if it’s because of the injustice in the wizarding world or something else.

“What about you?”, I ask: “When was your last date?”.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on an actual date”, Draco admits and takes a sip of shame.

“You dog”, I laugh: “Didn’t even buy them dinner first?”.

Draco grins at me: “No”, he says: “And it worked well for me”.

“I bet it did”, I murmur and he chuckles.

“I always wondered”, I say: “You and Parkinson?”.

Draco sighs: “I’m afraid I broke her little heart. We were a bit on again, off again for a while until I broke it off during my sixth year”.

“I knew it”, I say triumphantly: “Men and women can’t just be friends, it just doesn’t work”.

And to my great surprise Draco does not argue.

“Well, we need to get you a date”, I say because I always have to fill the silence.

“Oh”, Draco says: “No thanks”.

“What do you mean no thanks?”, I ask incredulously: “You’ve been in prison for three years, Draco, you need a good shag”.

He lets out a startled laugh: “What happened to the good old deep emotional connection”.

“You have all your life to look for that one”, I tell him.

“I think I already found it”, he says very quietly and my hearts skips a beat.

What? NO! That’s not how it was supposed to be, he was supposed to slowly fall in love with me.

“Oh”, I say and take another sip of wine with a shaky hand: “Who is she? Or he?”.

“She”, Draco says.

“Do I know her?”, I ask him as casually as I can.

“I’m not sure actually, sometimes I think you might but in reality I don’t think so”, he says very cryptically.

“Well then tell me about her”, I say even though I really don’t want to know.

“Okay”, he smiles: “Where should I start?”.

“Start at the beginning”, I say once again and smile at him.

“She’s beautiful, I mean, she is absolutely gorgeous and way smarter than me and so funny. She is simply mesmerizing. She has a dark side, but she’s very brave too, she’s sad sometimes, and lonely and lost and I don’t know if I could ever make her happy but I really want to try”.

I try swallowing the sip of wine in my mouth and it just won’t work , when I finally succeed I say: “She sounds amazing”, I say: “I’m just not sure if she deserves you”.

“She’d deserve so much better”, he whispers, a sad look in his eyes.

I don’t know what to say to that so I just take another sip of wine.

“What about you?”, he asks, cheery again: “Seeing anybody?”.

“You know damn well that I’ll be forever alone”, I tell him as the waiter removes our dirty dishes from the table.

Draco laughs loudly, head bent backwards, eyes to the ceiling. It looks beautiful. My eyes sting a little.

“But isn’t there anyone you’re infatuated with?”, he asks now.

I hesitate. But maybe it would be good talking about it, especially talking about it with Draco even though he wont know what I mean by the words I’m saying.

“There is someone”, I admit and Dracos eyebrows go up.

“I‘ve only known him for a few weeks”, I go on: “But I’ve never felt this way before”.

“What is he like?”, Draco asks quietly.

I sigh, trying to think about everything that makes Draco Draco.

“He’s proud and ambitious, but kind and caring and compassionate. He’s capable and courageous and gentle and interesting and mature”.

“What’s stopping you?”, he asks.

“He doesn’t feel the same way about me”, I say and it’s hard to say it.

“Are you sure?”, he asks.

“He told me”, I admit quietly.

“Then he’s a fool”, Draco insists.

The rest of our meal goes over smoothly, we talk, we laugh, we eat. Draco insists that the salmon I make is way better and I tell him I’ll make it for him whenever he fancies it once we catch Greyback.   
We leave the restaurant late, its after seven when we get back to the hotel and we decided to go to bed at eight again to be fit for tomorrow.

For some reason the ride up the elevator is awkward, we’re both shuffling and saying nothing. I’m grateful once I see the wide open space of the kitchen. I lean against the counter: “Would you like a hot chocolate?”.

“Yes, please”, Draco says, kicking off his shoes at the door, hanging up his coat. I put two cups of milk into the microwave and go take off jacket and boots by the door. Draco stands there watching me.

“What are you doing?”, I ask, half laughing.

“Watching you”, he says simply.

“Yes, but why?”, I ask.

“Because you’re mesmerizing”, Draco says quietly, his voice raspy and dark.

I stand up and turn towards him, a shocked expression on my face: “Me?”, I ask quietly: “You were talking about me?”.

Almost unnoticeably Draco nods.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, there is smut now!

I look at him and it’s like swallowing a campfire, my fingers tingle and twitch, my fists clenched, trying to hold onto themselves. 

He’s so close, I can taste his breath on my tongue, hot and smooth it travels over my lips, causing the fine fuzz on my face to stand up in excitement. 

I feel lightheaded, not really seeing anything but his lips. They part ever so slightly and the tip of his tongue slips out to unconsciously wet his lower lip. Seeing this makes my stomach twitch and before I can stop myself my tongue steals itself out as well and wets my lips. I see the vein above his collar bone pulsate and for a second I envy him because I feel like I have no blood left in my body.

I look at his face, his eyes are still focused on my lips and I realise they are still parted slightly, I can’t bring myself to change that, so I just continue to stare at his eyes.

And suddenly, he looks up and our eyes lock. 

Two heartbeats go by, but then, without any warning, I see him come closer, still looking into my eyes. 

I feel a gentle hand in my neck and shudder with anticipation. And then, finally, our lips touch. The sensation shoots an arrow of heat down my chest and stomach. His hand is in my hair, not moving but firm and warm and his lips pressed on mine, soft and smooth and oh so sweet. 

No one of us moves for a millisecond, then I close my eyes and finally he seems to realise how good it feels, how long I’ve waited for this and how much I want him. Because like turning a switch there is movement. His other hand creeps up my throat while he starts to kiss me. Really kiss me. 

He tastes like I imagined he would, fresh and light and I breathe him in as he parts my lips with his tongue. I shudder again, this time I make a sound, like a surprised intake of air and I feel him tense up. I’m not even able to think about what that could mean, instead I wake from my trance and I’m able to move again. I put one hand on his chest and one into his hair and move closer, pressing my body against his so we stand as close as possible and with a jolt of electricity I feel him, hard and big against my thigh. 

I groan and this time I hear him gasp for air himself. There’s movement again, I feel his teeth on my jaw, working their way down to my collar bone. With no further notice he picks me up like I weigh nothing at all. His hands are on my ass, my legs around his waist. He’s pressing my back on the wall, without even wanting to my hips start moving and I hear him groan. 

„Fuck“, he whispers and I grin into the kiss.

I trace my fingers down his stomach and he jerks forward. I push his shirt over his head. He is beautiful, pale and smooth and so cold looking yet so warm under my fingertips. There is a patch of fine hair on his chest and like sometimes I am suddenly surprised that we are adults by now.

To lose his shirt was obviously his signal because once he stands there, my legs around his body pulsating agains him he lets out a deep moan and sits me down on the dining table. Before I can do anything he’s taken off my shirt and caresses the thin line where my breasts meet above my bra. He looks almost intoxicated by now, his eyes getting focused and unfocussed with every move, breath fast and hot against my tingling skin. I reach behind my back and open my bra. As the silky cup falls to the floor he stops moving. 

Then he looks up into my eyes again, his hands caressing my jaw: „You are so beautiful“, he says and amazement sparks in his eyes. 

And only for a second I feel like crying. Because he means it and I can’t understand why, because I see the scarry mess that once was my stomach, and I see the thin scars on my chest and feel the ones on my legs and I feel so ugly I want to put all my clothes back on and go to bed and never wake up again.

But then I see the look in his eyes and I see no disgust or embarrassment, I only see desire and trust and something I can’t place, love maybe, or gratitude. Nothing in his being seems taken aback by me and I want to cry again, but instead I smile: „So are you“, I say and I can see he believes me. And very briefly I see a chain of emotions on his face very similar to my own and realise he understands me. We are the same.

I need him closer, so much closer. The distance between us seems unbearable so I pull him close again and I kiss him, slowly at first, tasting him, teasing him, just feeling him. I can feel the anticipation behind each kiss and another arrow of heat shoots down my crotch.

Maybe this is too fast, maybe this is stupid, I don’t care one bit at this moment. I need to feel him, I need him, now and completely. I let my hand slide down his stomach and feel his skin vibrate under my fingertips. I hesitate for a second and look into his eyes. They are dark, his iris is just a tiny silver ring around a dilated pupil, his cheeks are flushed, lips parted and wet and his hair is a curly mess from my hands. I can see the lust in his eyes. I see he wants me as much as I want him.

My hand goes lower and finally my fingers brush along the tight fabric covering his errection. He moans loudly and it sounds gorgeous, deep and humming and raspy and wanting. I made him do that. He sounds like this because of me. I feel a strange pinch of pride in my stomach and bite my lip. I want him to sound like that again.

I trace his penis again, only with the tips of my fingers, a touch barely noticeable under normal circumstances.

His eyelids shudder closed and I grip tighter. He’s big and hard and I feel a tiny wet spot on his trousers already and it turns me on alarmingly. I feel my thighs vibrate a little, my parts contracting a little and then the sensation of something trickling out of me. I gasp and remember I’m not wearing any underwear. My hips rock forward involuntarily as I stroke him through his pants just enjoying the sounds he’s making.

But it’s not close enough, so I open the button of his pants and zip them open. I look up into his face questioningly: „Okay?“, I ask because I can’t form a whole sentence right now.

„Are you kidding me?“, he breathes half laughing, half moaning: „Okay doesn’t come close“, he kisses me again and with his lips on mine I shove down his pants and underwear and wrap my hand around him. He breathes in sharply and bites down on my lip.

He is hot and hard and oh so wet at the top, my hand glides up and down with ease. He shudders and puts his hands around my breats. He doesnt move at first, just cupping them in his palm, warming me with his hands. After a moment he opens his eyes and looks at me. I am still massaging him and I feel him leaking and pulsating inside my hand and it leads me to leak and pulsate as well.

His hands find my nipples and a jolt travels down my body. I moan and he twitches in my hand. He smiles and massages my nipple, pinching and rolling and pulling on them and my hand starts to go off rhythm. This feels so good and so right and so hot, I can’t focus anymore. I can feel the wetness run down my leg and leak onto the table.

He has taken off his trousers and socks somewhere in between but I hadn’t realized, now he’s completely naked and I look at him intently. He is gorgeous, nothing left of the proud stiffness he sometimes puts on. He is real and here and he is himself.

I look at my hand and see his cock as pale as my hand quivering.

I want to turn to him, but his face is gone, buried between my breasts. I grin but then his tongue finds my nipple and I scream. It’s way louder than I anticipated I’d ever be. Draco thrusts forward involuntarily and I grip him harder.

He licks again and puts it in his mouth, sucking and biting gently. I scream again now unable to stroke him, my hands try to find hold in his back, nails scratching and searching and he groans again.

„Switch places“, I’m finally able to moan. He looks at me questioningly but I stand up and turn him around. Now the table is behind him, but he’s still standing.

I can observe the exact moment he realizes what I want to do and more heat flushes into his cheeks and lips.

I kiss him, travel down his jaw to his collarbones. I spend a little time with his nipples too but I’m inpatient so I drop down to my knees and kiss his bellybutton. The heat of his cock is only a few centimeters away from my face and my cheek accidentally touches him. He’s wetter than ever.

I look up one more time into his eyes staring down at me, then I open my mouth and swallow him in.

He is big, but I can handle it. I put him in completely, feeling the slight reflex to gag but I relax a second later and it subsides. I can hear him moan above me as he buries his hands inside my hair, trying desperately not to move while he’s inside me.

I cup his balls in my hand and lick up the underside of his shaft. More precum trickles out of his cock.

„I need to taste you“, he growls and pulls me up again. He kisses me while turning us around and sitting me onto the table once more.

His hands travel from my ankles up to the sides of my thighs and under my skirt. He reaches the side of my hips and travels upwards and upwards until he reaches the skirts waistband. He breaks away from the kiss, his eyes darker than ever: „You’re not wearing underwear“, he says, half question half prayer.

„I seldom do“, I tell him: „Never have in your company at least“.

„All the time we’ve wasted“, he says looking almost angry with himself.

„We have time now“, I whisper and he nods.

His hands wander down again, hidden by the flowy fabric of my skirt, they reach my thighs and don’t stop. He teases me for a second then he puts his hand further dwon and touches me. A fire explodes inside my stomach.

„Oh my god“, I groan as he begins circling my clitoris.

His mouth is on my neck, biting and sucking at my skin and I’m not sure if I can take much more. As if he had heard my thoughts he stops. But before I can protest I see his head disappear and his knees hit the ground. My skirt lifts and suddenly his tongue is inside me, thrusting up and down. I scream again: „Oh my god“. He is still massaging my nipples, twisting and pinching but what he does with his mouth overpowers everything.

„I want you so much“, he moans into me.

I shudder again and his grip tightens.

„Take me, then“, I groan and he looks up.

„Are you sure?“; he asks and I laugh shrilly.

„I’m so sure“, I breathe.

He stands up and takes off my skirt, now we are equally naked.

I expect him to move forward, but he just stands there, only centimeters away from me, naked and vulnerable and he looks at me with this expression I have never seen on his face. But it looks like it belongs there. Soft and delicate and sensible and so vulnerable and trusting at the same time. He comes closer and kisses me. Slowly, delicately almost cautiously, his touch so soft as if he’s scared I would disappear if gripped too tight.

I put my arms around his neck and embrace him.

„You’re perfect“, I say and it’s nothing more than a whisper, a brush of breath on his lips but I feel him pull back and look at me again.

He doesn’t say anything but I think he wants to, I think he wants to say it now, I think he feels it, I think he wants me to know, but he can’t. It’s almost enough for me.

„Yes“, I say: „I know“, I pull him towards me again. Taking him into my hands and guiding him between my legs.

I feel a sharp and sudden pain as he enters but then it’s gone and there is only pleasure left. Pleasure and his almost melodic groans as he slowly pushes deeper into me.

„You’re so wet“, he moans.

I let myself sink down on the table top, cold and hard under my back and close my eyes. His hands are at my breasts again, gentle and reassuring and delicious. He’s inside me now, completely and I feel him slowly pull out again.

I can’t help a small whimper escape my mouth at the sudden emptiness inside me but before I can revel on the loss of him he thrusts back into me, harder now, deeper, faster and I scream, eyes wide open again.

I look at him and see a question in his eyes so I nod and he thrusts again. And again. 

„Yes“, I scream.

He’s getting faster. Then he stops and climbs onto the table above me and his lean body presses on mine with the perfect weight as not to crush me but reassure me he is still there.  
My hands caress his back and he mouthes kisses on my jaw and neck while he moves in and out of me.

We are the same color, our breathing synchronising, our hearts beating the same rhythm and I can feel us slowly becoming one

I can feel he’s close, his movements getting faster even, his eyes closed, his moans slowly turning into one long quiet scream and I encourage him. I try to show him that it’s okay, because I am close as well. 

I scream as he thrusts into me pushing buttons, touching places noone has ever touched before. I smell his sweat mixed with mine and after a second I feel him twitching and contracting, but he’s still thrusting, hard and deep.

I feel his hand wander down and it only takes one touch and I explode with pleasure.

I jolt and snap and vibrate and scream and I see nothing but black and stars as I orgasm.


	15. Chapter 15

We stay like this for a few minutes, me on my back on the cold table top, Draco, still inside me, on top, face buried in my neck, be are both panting and gasping for air.

Then after some time Draco slowly rolls to his side and comes to a stop on his back, next to me.

“Wow”, he says simply and for some reason I find it hilarious. 

I start laughing, hard.

Draco looks at me in shock, then slowly, he joins me.

“Why are we laughing?”, he asks after a while.

“I’m laughing because I am happy”, I explain: “You?”.

“Why I’m laughing or wether I’m happy?”.

“Both”, I say.

“Well I’m laughing because you are laughing, your laugh is very contagious”, he smiles at me: “And as for happiness”, he pauses: “I don’t remember ever being this happy”.

“We should try a patronus charm then”, I joke and grin.

“You know what?”, he says: “I think we actually should”.

“Wait”, I say: “Really?”.

“Really”.

“Did you ever make one before?”, I ask.

“Nothing more than silver mist for me”, he says sadly: “What about you?”.

“Same here”, I admit: “I always wanted to do this spell”.

Draco hops down from the table and drags me off too. We are still naked but neither of us seems to care.

“Alright”, I say: “Patronus charm, then shower”.

Draco beams at me: “You go first”, he says and I nod, nervous. What if I can’t do it? Again.

I go get my wand from my jacket pocket and take a stance in the spacious living room.

“Alright”, Draco says: “You know the drill. Think of the happiest memory you have. Concentrate”.

“Yes, Sir”, I say and salute, which probably looks ridiculous since I’m still naked.

I hold up my wand and think. The happiest memory of my life? That would be this one. Draco. Becoming one. Laughing. Breathing. Being so very together.  
I think abut the way Draco had looked at me, is still looking at me, so full of trust and mischief and, yes, maybe love.

“Expecto Patronum”, I say as quietly as I can.

Silver mist shoots out of my wand, bright and solid but still mist. I sigh.

“Try a different memory”, Draco says: “Don’t worry”.

I wreck my brain in search of a moment where I have ever been happier and come up empty. This is it, this is my moment, why won’t it work?

I let out a frustrated growl.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be a memory at all? Maybe I just have to think about the happiest moment I could experience in my life?

I don’t even have to think about it. The second I let my thoughts wander my mind focuses in on a picture. There’s Draco, of course, he is beside me, hand on my swollen belly, beaming with pride and joy. I’m wearing a flowy floral dress and I look healthy and happy and full of anticipation.

“Expecto Patronum”, I say, quietly this time and with a smile on my lips.

I know it has worked the second my wand shivers and a second later there it is.

It is enormous, filling the whole room with light and warmth.

“What is it?”, Draco asks, shielding his eyes from the brightness.

“It’s an eagle”, I whisper proudly: “And it’s huge”.

“You did it”, Draco says: “It’s beautiful, it really is”.

“Thank you”, I say: “Now it’s your turn”.

Draco swallows but nods, he looks nervous and I can understand perfectly well.

He holds up his wand and closes his eyes: “Expecto Patronum”.

Bright mist comes out of his wand tip, he opens one eye and lets out a frustrated sigh.

He tries again and it doesn’t work, he tries again and again but all there is is mist.

“It doesn’t have to be a memory”, I tell him: “Just think about the happiest you could ever be, that’s what I did”.

Dracos brows furrow, he closes his eyes again. A moment later a smile spreads over his lips.

“Expecto Patronum”, he whispers and finally there it is. I gasp.

“That’s me”, I whisper as Draco opens his eyes.

“Nah”, he says, shifting from one leg to the other: “It’s just a wolf, could be anyone”.

“No”, I insist: “Do you see the spot on the shoulder? That’s definitely me, Draco”.

Draco doesn’t say anything, he is blushing furiously.

I stare at myself for a few minutes and all I want to do is kiss Draco, but what if he doesn’t want me to anymore? What if this was a one time thing? I feel myself becoming more and more sad with every second that passes.

The wolf vanishes with a flick of Dracos wand and there is nothing but darkness and sadness left.

“Let’s go to sleep”, Draco says finally.

Suddenly I’m unbelievably tired.

I nod and walk over to the closet to get out my pyjamas, Draco does the same.

Suddenly being naked is awkward and weird, all I want is to cover up. All I want is to be alone.

When we lie in bed, not saying a word I have time to think and judging from Dracos restless shuffling he is doing the same. Or maybe this doesn’t concern him at all? Maybe this was all he wanted, one shag to get it out of his system. I feel tears rolling down my cheeks and move a little away from him.

What does this mean for us? Are we even still friends? I can’t lose him, I would not survive it, having experienced thus closeness and so much trust just to have it ripped away again would be too much for me. Draco is family, Draco is pack and I can’t let him go, ever.

It takes me forever to fall asleep and when the alarm goes off at three in the morning all I do is groan and turn around, Draco hadn’t even woken up.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little short, sorry!

It’s late when I wake up again, almost noon. I curse myself for having missed my chance with the morning shift.

“Draco, wake up”, I murmur and shake his shoulder.

Draco grunts and opens his eyes: “Is it time?”.

“It was time a few hours ago but we should still try our luck”, I say and he nods.

I brush my teeth and take a shower and when I am ready so is Draco.

We disapparate to the docks together, the silence is awkward and filled with unspoken words. I don’t know if I can handle it.

We spend a couple of hours asking around for Greyback but the few workers that are still there have never seen him. We decide to go home when the siren calls the end of the last shift.  
We go looking for a small alley to apparate from when the voice speaks.

“I heard you are looking for me”, the man says and I whirl around.

“Expilliarmus”, I scream but he dodges out of the way.

“Is that a way to greet your Alpha?”, Greyback chuckles from behind a stack of wood.

“You’re not my Alpha”, I yell at him. Draco beside me has raised his wand, ready for an attack.

“Oh but I am”, Greyback snarls: “Heard you want to join the pack?”.

“Never”, I scream and shoot another curse in his direction but it only makes the wood burst into flames.

“Crucio”, Greyback screams and I pull Draco away in the last second before the curse hits the ground where he had been standing.

Asshole, I think, fucking cruel asshole.

“This has been going on long enough, Fenrir”, I say, cautiously tiptoeing my way forward: “Give up”.

Greyback laughs a maniacle laugh: “I won’t go to Azkaban”, he yells: “You’re going to have to kill me. Think you can do that, snowflake?”.

“Nobody has to die today”, I say.

“That’s where you’re wrong”, Greyback yells: “Avada Kedavra”, he yells and I jump out of the way.

I’m furious now: “The great Fenrir Greyback hiding like an animal from a couple of kids”, I laugh with anger: “I would have expected more from you”.

“Oh you want me to fight?”, Greyback growls: “I can give you a fight”.

He stands up from behind the wood. He’s ginormous.

Draco doesn’t hesitate and puts the disarming spell on him again but it gets blocked by an invisible force field.

“Crucio”, Greyback yells and suddenly Draco is on the floor, screaming and squirming.

“Stop it”, I scream at Greyback: “Let him go”.

“Oh I’m just starting to have fun”, he shouts with a grin on his face.

Dracos screams slice through my brain, my hands are sweating now, I don’t know what to do, I am utterly out of options.

That’s when it happens. I can feel it starting in my spine, the pain is so familiar, but it freaks me out. Now? How is that possible?  
It is over within seconds and a loud growl escapes my mouth.

I can see Greybacks wide eyes staring at me, utterly surprised. He lets go of Draco and screams the killing curse at me but I can dodge it with ease.

Out of the corner of my consciousness I register Draco standing up, panting. But now is not the time to check on him, now it is time to rip Greyback apart with my teeth.

I’m on him in a second, Greyback yelps in surprise and falls on his back with a loud crash. His hands are everywhere, blocking my jaws and my claws. 

We roll around the dirt, he punches me in the stomach, I bury my teeth in his upper arm and he yells in pain. We are equals, I’m just as strong as he is.

I take a lot of punches, Greybacks wand laying on the ground somewhere, but I also get in a few bites now and then. The growling and screaming is deafening.

“Get out of the way Lilith”, Draco screams: “I can’t get a clear shot”.

But Greybacks arm is wrapped around my middle, holding onto me like a shield. He is bleeding profusely now and I am proud of my work.

And then suddenly, in one split second there is an opening in his defences and I take my chance. 

My jaws lock around his neck and with all the strength I can muster I bite down and tear a big chunk out of it. Blood splatters into my eyes, I can’t see anymore and that’s all he needed. 

With an almighty roar and his last strenght he hurls me into the air. I collide with the building at the height of the second story window. My head crashes against the brick and I can hear a loud crack and a flood of blood blinding me further, then I fall and I fall until I hit the ground. 

Another few cracks and unbelievable pain. Then everything goes black.


	17. Chapter 17

I can’t open my eyes, I can’t move, I can barely breathe, some of my rips must be broken. I hear Draco cast a spell I don’t recognise, then he’s over me.

“Fuck”, he yells: “Lilith?”.

I can’t answer him, my body doesn’t respond to my brain anymore.

“Fuck”, he says again, I can feel his fingers on my neck, obviously in search of a puls: “Oh thank fuck”, he breathes: “It’s going to be fine, Lil, we got him. You got him”.

I feel the relief wash over me. I did it.

“I’ll be right back”, Draco says and I can hear his footsteps shuffling away from me. A second later he is back by my side.

I can hear the beeps as he types a number into my cellphone, then two rings and then a familiar voice that answers: “Hello?”.

“Harry”, Draco almost yells: “We got him”.

“You what?”, Harry yells back: “Are you serious”.

“I need your help”, Dracos voice is shaking: “He got Lilith pretty bad, she’s out of it”.

“I’ll be right there”, Harry says: "Don’t move."

Draco hangs up.

It takes not more than thirty breaths until I hear multiple loud bangs and, then, the breathing of about five more people inside the Alley.

“Holy shit”, Harry says breathlessly: “You really did it”.

“Take him”, Draco says: “I don’t want to look at him anymore”.

“You two”, Harry barks: “Get him back and to the mediwizards before he bleeds out”.

I hear another loud bang and I can sense Greyback is gone.

“You three search the area”, Harry commands his employees and their footsteps recede into the distance.

Then suddenly he is right next to me: “She’s unconscious?”, he asks.

“Yes”, Draco swallows: “He hurled her against the wall, I heard a couple of loud cracks, I need to get her to a hospital”.

“No hospital will take her”, Harry says: “Not with her condition, you know that”.

“For fucks sake”, Draco yells, rubbing my shoulder: “Then I take her to a muggle vet, I don’t care”.

“And when she changes back?”, Harry asks: “What do you do then?”.

“Do you have a better idea?”, Draco asks, venom in his voice.

“Bring her to Hagrid”, Harry says immediately: “He’ll know what to do”.

“Are you sure?”, Draco asks and I want to chuckle. Draco never considered the Gamekeeper very competent.

“Tell him I sent you, he’ll do everything in his power and he knows his fair share about werewolves”.

Draco hesitates, then: “Alright”.

“Go now”, Harry urges him: “We don’t know if she’s bleeding internally as well”.

“Thank you”, Draco says passionately.

“Here”, Harry says, giving Draco something: “That’s my portkey, it will bring you directly onto the grounds”.

I can feel Draco bury his fingers inside my fur, then my belly button is ripped forward and I lose conciousness again.

I wake up by colliding with wet grass, every bone in my body aching.

“What the”, I hear a deep voice from a few meters away: “Malfoy?”.

“I’m so sorry to startle you, Professor”, Draco pants: “I need your urgent help”.

Hagrid doesn’t say anything.

“Harry sent me”, Draco goes on.

“Oh why didn’t you just say that?”, Hagrid asks and I can hear a smile in his voice: “What do you have there?”, he asks.

“Her name is Lilith”, Draco says and lifts me up.

“Is she your pet?”, Hagrid asks as both of them climb the stairs to the cabin.

“No”, Draco says.

“Is she dead?”, Hagrid asks, concerned.

“We got in a fight”, Draco says: “She’s unconscious but alive”.

“I had hoped yer fighting days were over”, Hagrid says sadly.

“They are”, Draco insist: “It was a one time thing”.

“And you brought your wolf to the fight?”, Hagrid chuckles.

“She’s not an ordinary wolf”, Draco whispers.

“Oh”, Hagrid says, realisation in his voice: “You brought a shifted werewolf into my house?”, he asks then, acusatorily.

“She’s unconscious”, Draco defends himself: “And we didn’t know what else to do”.

“Yer did good bringing her to me”, Hagrid says after a short pause: “Lie her down on the couch. Get off Fang!”.

I hear a short whimper from a dog I presume, then Draco lays me down on something soft.

“Can you help her?”, Draco asks anxiously.

“I can try”, Hagrid says: “I can’t make any promises, though”.

“That’s all I could hope for”, Draco murmurs: “How can I help?”.

“Stay with her”, Hagrid says: “I need to go to the library and get a book on werewolfs”.

With that the door closes behind him.

I feel the couch shift as Draco sits down beside me.

“He’ll help you, Lil”, Draco whispers, stroking my fur with one hand: “I’m so sorry I didn’t help you”.

I want to tell him this isn’t his fault, I want to hug him, kiss him, but my body doesn’t react.

Draco reads to me for a while, a book on hippogriffs. It’s not very interesting but the sound of his dark voice soothes me. I can feel him trying to enter my mind a few times but something instinctively keeps him out and he groans in frustration.

It is late when Hagrid comes back, plopping down what sounds like multiple heavy books on the table.

“I found a few things”, Hagrid says: “Werewolfs can heal pretty quickly on their own, all internal bleeding and broken bones should be mended by tomorrow afternoon”.

“So we do nothing?”, Draco asks.

“Not much”, Hagrid tells him: “I’ll give her a potion for the pain, but all we can do is wait”.

“What if she’s too weak to heal herself?”, Draco asks: “She hit her head really hard”.

“She hit her head?”, Hagrid aks.

“Yes”, Draco explains: “And fell a good four meters to the ground”.

“That might be the reason she hasn’t shifted back yet”, Hagrid muses: “Animalistic instinct”.

“How do you mean?”, Draco asks, not understanding.

“She has a concussion, I’m sure of it, if not worse brain trauma”, Hagrid says: “Her instincts tell her body to stay in her wolf form as not to be too vulnerable during the healing process”.

“But she”, Draco hesitates: “She will change back some time, right?”.

“I’m not sure”, Hagrid admits: “Shifting without a full moon is very rare, it will take her a lot of strength to get back to her human body”.

“Can I help her in any way?”, Draco asks.

“Why did she shift in the first place?”, Hagrid asks.

“Because of me”, Draco whispers: “I was under the Crucio and she wanted to help me and I couldn’t do anything”.

“Well”, Hagrid sighs: “You being safe should help her shift back. It’ll ease her mind”.

“So now we wait?”, Draco asks.

“Now we wait”, Hagrid agrees.

The potion Hagrid gives me helps a little with the pain, but it makes me sleepy and numb and I don’t like the feeling, still alert and worried about Draco. I have to remind myself that Greyback is in custody, he can’t hurt him anymore.

Draco talks to me the whole time, he tells me stories about his childhood, mostly happy ones with a lot of Christmas presents or a big scoop of ice cream in Diagon Alley or Quidditch. He steers clear of the more troublesome stories, he doesn’t mention the war, or Voldemort or his sentence.

Harry comes by on the second day to ask how I’m holding up, when he sees me in the same state I hear worry in his voice but Hagrid assures him that I’ll be fine. I wish I could believe him.

Draco leaves for a couple of hours on the third day and comes back with my projector and my VHS collection. We spend the rest of the day watching – or in my case listening to – movies. His hand strokes my fur the whole time. In the evening he bathes me, washing out the blood from my sticky fur and puts me in front of the fireplace to dry. It is nice and warm and I almost feel at ease, almost. I fall asleep in front of the fire.

“It’s about time to wake up, Lil”, Dracos voice wakes me from my slumber. Everything is quiet, it ought to be in the middle of the night. I can hear the tears in his voice, I can hear his shaky breathing and all I want is to comfort him. 

I try to open my eyes, I feel my muscles twitch, something they haven’t done before. Draco doesn’t notice, I presume he’s watching the fire.

“I miss you so much”, he whispers: “I don’t know what to do without you, who I am when you’re not here”.

Slowly my eyes open, the fire is too bright for my eyes, they are so used to the darkness now.

“I just want you back”, Draco says, a little sob escaping his mouth: “I need you back”.

I try moving my right paw, nothing happens. I try again and feel my claws contract the tiniest bit.

It is silent for a long time while I lie there trying to move, only barely being able to.

“I love you”, Draco suddenly says.

I feel my heart skip a a beat, feel the warmth spread through my chest, feel the hope in my brain.

“I love you”, he says again: “And not just as your friend”, he shakes his head.

I finally open my eyes, all I can do and watch him. The fire licks flickering orange over his pale skin, he looks beautiful, shiny trails on his cheeks.

“I want to kiss you, I want to sleep with you, I want to touch you”, he says: “I need to, it’s like a spell on me”.

I feel it in my spine first, as always. Draco looks down at me once I start twitching.

“Lilith”, he yells: “What’s happening? Are you okay?”.

It doesn’t take long, only a couple of minutes and suddenly I can move again, suddenly I have hands and feet and human teeth and I use them to smile at Draco.

“I love you too”, I say breathlessly.

He stares at me with wide eyes: “You do?”.

“Yes”, I say: “I have loved you for a long time”.

And then he smiles, bright and hopeful and earnest and so sweet it takes my breath away.


	18. Epilogue

“Hello everyone”, she says nervously: “My name is Mary and I’m a werewolf”.

“Welcome Mary”, we all say in unison.

Mary smiles at us.

“It’s so nice that you joined us, Mary”, I say: “It takes a lot of bravery to seek help”.

Mary nods: “I heard so many good things about this group”, she says.

“I’m glad you found us”, I say.

Then I address the other participants: “Does anyone have a suggestion for tonights theme?”.

It is silent for a while then Marys hand shoots up again: “Could you tell us how you captured Greyback? I've read all about it in the papers”, she asks and I chuckle.

“How about I tell you next time?”, I propose: “Then I’ll bring my husband, he tells it so much better than me”.


End file.
